I thought you left me

by Olivia Gwyn

I feel you lay the sun on my skin

like a blanket in December 

Feel your hands in my hair 

like the wind

I thought you left me,

I whisper

You are not angry,

but instead soak me in sunshine 

You were never good at keeping your distance

instead, this—

You, in the sun and the laughter,

a reason to wake up in the morning,

cinnamon toast and a new set of markers

I’m in the kitchen surrounded by 

girls, now women, I love

and you are there

I remember again

how much you love to see me smile,

how you love being with me

Enough to never leave 

The geese are turning their backs on us 

By Olivia Gwyn

Leaving for a land more kind than home 

and I would send you with them

if I knew which way was south

But winter bleeds through the trees 

and I curse the cold and the leaving 

and the wings of the birds that carry them away 

Curse the knowledge that there is a place

that stays warm and waits for them

and that I do not know the way 

It’s you, isn’t it?

 

It’s you, isn’t it? 

By Olivia Gwyn

I would bring her to him

I would lower her down hand over rope-burned hand 

if I knew the building he was in 

I keep asking, asking 

I start to believe he isn’t really there,

but it’s you I’m talking to, isn’t it? 

I carry her on my back going in circles 

telling the air I can’t find you, 

but it’s you listening, isn’t it? 

You are the air and I am breathing you 

ragged through my lungs

pleading for you to help her, help me

You are not mean

you are not angry

you are just quiet when I want you to be loud 

Drown out the sound of all my insufficiencies, fears 

and give me one breath of fresh air to scream

something to hope in

Instead, you are just here 

and I don’t know what to do 

with you in my veins and lungs 

Beside me 

not leaving 

or saying a word

Like the wind

or maybe

a friend