When it all comes back, rushing
back, bright and grand, leaving me
dull and small–
I hear wind chimes in the air
and bells ringing in my head
like a warning that I must hear,
desperately filling spaces and
voids and the gaps in my heart.
My veins flood with despair, like my
blood has been drained and
replaced with liquid pain.
My heart stops beating just long
enough for it to hurt,
if it hurts at all,
and my hands begin to shake the
way my mother’s used to
when she got upset about
forgetting.
But unlike her it is not the
forgetting that hurts,
it’s the remembering.
Alexa Stephens is a college student and aspiring writer from New York. She overthinks everything but is perfectly okay with that. She can usually be found reading a good book or binge-watching a TV show, but she occasionally steps out to browse secondhand bookstores. More than anything, she loves spending time with her dog and her best friend, and she never passes up an opportunity to watch the sunrise.