Home
The water runs loud enough to drown out
the sounds of those screams
coming from inside,
begging you here.
This is your home—
Our home.
Empty Table
Walk down the halls
At every corner, see the ghost of who he used To be
Stop and stare at all
That’s left-
Who is he?
This man sitting downstairs
“One Night”
Evening motel, flickering lights,
cigarettes on the nightstand. Broken AC.
Your voice.
The heat of your body
rubbing against mine
reminds me –
I didn’t want to.
So I push you away
Like I wasn’t able to with him.
∞
Ryan Pickney is a student at The University of La Verne in Southern California. Her poetry has been published and is forthcoming in several magazines and journals.
Keep up with her on Twitter @ryanpickney_
