There are two scenarios
in which I question my age
the first is when
I get shampoo in my eyes
the second is when
I think of you
My mind always wanders to you
your name, suddenly
in my notebook
surrounded by flowers and hearts
just so I can remember
the look of those
twelve letters
next to my own
I write it three times
cross my fingers
and make a wish
that you’ll appear in my bedroom
to see me absentminded at my desk
(You always were
my best distraction,
how fitting.)
I wonder why I’m like this,
twenty years old and
putting too much stake
in flower petals
He loves me.
My heart pounds as
my fingers make their way around
the flower, pulling delicate white petals
as if love is an excuse
for destroying something beautiful
He loves me not.
My hope gets crushed
by the weight
of dainty petals,
I wonder what that says
about my hope
He loves me.
I thank God
for odd numbers
***
Kerri Seyfert is twenty-two and still learning what to put in her bio. Her work can be found in HAD, Pink Plastic House, and The Catalyst. She is on Twitter @kerriseyfert.
***
image: “Fairyland:” Andrea Damic lives in Sydney, Australia. Words in @50wordstories, @FridayFlashFict, @paragraphplanet, @100WordsFTW and Microfiction Monday Magazine.Photographs in @rejectionlit, @FusionArtPS and several others pending print publication in @DoorIsAJarMag. Follow Andrea on TW @DamicAndrea. One day she hopes to finish and publish her novel.
Rejection Letters 