Our Own Undoing
By Aaron White
I’m afraid, without you,
invisible forces
want to end me with a
black Ticonderoga
to my tender temple.You’re indefinite and
gone. I think I’m done trying
to sew blue pieces
of your body back. There’s
honey to harvest now.You never liked to be
wrong. No one likes to be.
No one loves depressing
shit. You’ve left nothing that’s
short of a bottled ship.
invisible forces
want to end me with a
black Ticonderoga
to my tender temple.You’re indefinite and
gone. I think I’m done trying
to sew blue pieces
of your body back. There’s
honey to harvest now.You never liked to be
wrong. No one likes to be.
No one loves depressing
shit. You’ve left nothing that’s
short of a bottled ship.
After you, everything
at eye level stays clean.
I obsess to scrub the
walls and live much longer
to dirty them again.
Some days, since you, I am
a porous orange peel soaked
in official acid
of offices and jobs.
When I floss my teeth of
rind, there’s bits of your head.
But I should thank you, for
I’m a dad with Christmas
toys and batteries. I
have power to make things go.
Aaron White holds a Master of Arts in literary studies from Eastern Illinois University and contributes to
Bluestem Magazine as an assistant nonfiction editor. His work has appeared in Mothers Always Write,
Parent Co, 13th Dimension, Prong & Posy, The Pedestal Magazine, and other publications. He spends his
days raising a toddler, navigating academia, trying to sell a novel, and wallowing in obscurity. Connect
with him on Twitter @amwhite90 and Tumblr at amwhite90.tumblr.com