The inside of my palms are dirty
From the concrete blocks I sat on

The concrete was pressing against my palm
Creating a print in shape of pebbles

I look down and see the shape this concrete drew on my hand
My fists clench and unclench

Almost as if its searching for feeling
Almost as if i’m not feeling and I need to move to feel

I feel like screaming
But there are people

People who I love a lot
But don’t know what its like to burn and still smile

To be utterly lost
Drowning in the thickest mud

Gathering in your throat
I become a frog

An amphibian
A being on the threshold of breathing and suffocating

Isn’t it the same thing?
Being everything and nothing at once
All at the same time
All the time
Can I have some time to myself

But there are dreams
Stars waiting to be touched

Stages waiting to be cried on
Fields begging for screams

But i’ve ran out
Maybe tomorrow will be different

Maybe the sunrise can shine
And the brown iris in my eyes can bloom

And finally know when to stop

Quincy Smith ’25 is a staff writer

Anna Zhou ’25 is a staff artist