Heavy
Margaret Gilligan
Margaret Gilligan
I never knew how heavy a human skull was until I lifted yours up and off of the bathroom floor. You made ungodly sounds. You’re going to be okay, I told you in an ungodly way, but you didn’t look okay.
In your eyes, I saw the light dying, warped and blurred by my own eyes crying. Your skin was wet and cold with sweat. You tried to die so many times before, but this time, I felt I knew for sure.
The ambulance was taking its time. Mom pulled the curtains aside, exposing the street, wet and cold like your sweat. You were dying. The ambulance was taking its time. Mom was willing it to come, I was willing for heads to be less heavy.
In your eyes, I saw the light dying, warped and blurred by my own eyes crying. Your skin was wet and cold with sweat. You tried to die so many times before, but this time, I felt I knew for sure.
The ambulance was taking its time. Mom pulled the curtains aside, exposing the street, wet and cold like your sweat. You were dying. The ambulance was taking its time. Mom was willing it to come, I was willing for heads to be less heavy.
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Margaret Gilligan (She/Her) is a Senior at Edina High School in Minnesota. She enjoys using poetry as an outlet to heal and move forward from trauma. She is passionate about veganism, feminism, and mental health awareness. This is Margaret’s first published work. She plans to study political science and english when in university.
Margaret Gilligan (She/Her) is a Senior at Edina High School in Minnesota. She enjoys using poetry as an outlet to heal and move forward from trauma. She is passionate about veganism, feminism, and mental health awareness. This is Margaret’s first published work. She plans to study political science and english when in university.