The Passed Note Issue 1 June 2016 - Page 56

Julianne Palumbo

Stuffing Lockers

My eyes glare down

today,

like headlights

counting the cracks

in the fog-colored sidewalk

that drags me into school.

It’s easier to count

than to smile and pretend

I care enough about anyone

to say ‘hello.’

Man, why does it have to be

so cold?

I want to turn around,

get back in my car

and cruise on home.

My knuckles stiffen

inside my pockets

so I can’t even

clench a fist.

I clench my teeth

instead.

Inside, she’s standing in my way,

again,

blocking my locker,

with her stuff

all over the floor.

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