I find us, always rolling down that grassy hill at grandma’s.
Knees stained green, itchy as hell. Blotchy, burnt faces echoing
hues of the raging sunset. Constantly sat on the edge between
throwing up or crying of laughter. Wishing to stay shivering outside in
the breeze forever. Screaming at the endless void to let us
dodge mom’s inevitable scolding. I lay awake at night questioning
what future historians may think of us.
Friends, foes, sisters?
Yes.
Sometimes, all at the same time. I wonder when they find our bodies
if we’ll have the same bones. Will they glimpse at our withered remains
knowing we once held the whole sky in our hands?
Star Jalanugraha is a Los Angeles based, Asian American writer whose work focuses on themes of girlhood, self reflection, and family. She is currently in college full time pursing her B.A. in English Literature. When she is not busy writing or cramming for exams, she enjoys finding new music to listen to, making pottery, and going to the beach.
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