Derived from a poem I wrote sophomore year, the work went from losing someone you care about, to losing them and feeling nothing but a strong desire to see them for just a second longer. In my theatre class last semester, the class was assigned to write a monologue in any style that tells a story. In my head, it was an opening for me to get back into writing and to let my words roll off of my tongue and onto the page.

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My dear friend, I still love you

And though I can only see you within these walls

I still hold your scent on my hands

I can hear your soft-murmured words

They tell me that you won’t go

But I’ve promised that I’d see you when I sleep

How horrible the absence of your voice is

As your words and sounds will no longer enter my ears

Causing my smiles to fade

And our eyes to no longer meet

But we ache for lips to curve

And give me a grin

But my fingertips aren’t steady

So my eyes go from star to moon, and star to moon again

With a heavy heart

Like a water drenched hammock

And so I’ll head home

Run my hand down my Davinci Jayden Dresser

Spark hope so I can vocalize a rugged being

And breathe with my eyes shut.

At a glance through my window

The rose pedals slowly stop swaying

My extremities reach a pitch black, numbing grip

And though the clouds now felt away

My underlying relief brings me back home