It Rained Last Night

by Sofia Williams

It rained last night.

it always seemed to be raining then
the world was either trying to drown or dry us out
grass crunched yellow and pale or
drowned yards below reservoir spillage

Our feet crunched over oak leaves before sinking into mud.

it’s strange how oxygen tasted differently then
i would find it caught in my hair, lodged in my throat
desperate to encase me in static warmth
i so desperately wished to grow out of

Water drops from sagging sidewalk covers onto our gifted heads.

repercussions have tainted my memories
soured the apples
staled the bread

Creaky floorboards are now silent as the sag from overwatering and our sneakered

feet. it’s silly, to think how those little things still bother me

the instability

Magenta nail polish unlocks a door, covered in peeling green paint.
We tumble inside, a chorus of gaggling ducklings following a trail of validation laid out by a love born ignorance.

you don’t realize you love something until it’s gone.

dew drops on flower petals
dandelions in a summer breeze
pictures from bedside table frames
stars dwindling in a velvet sky

i loved the heavy footfalls on cheap carpet.
the green chairs my lima bean body was too small for.
i loved the secrets and tears spilled into a carpeted circle.

I never said so.
until the sneakers were too small
and the chairs fit like they were supposed to
and my steps grew quiet with fear

Sofia Williams is currently a freshman at HSPVA. In her spare time, she enjoys reading lots of books, listening to music, and drinking far too much tea.