by Emma Johnson-Rivard
I have not always loved you.
This is how I start.
Begin to forgive a
given thought, again.
No worries, my sister.
I have bought my ending, alone.
Fate turns me best and
clockwise. Do you counter?
Yes. But softly. There is
no death for dying. I'm sorry.
We are no eternal.
Remember, too: we are not lonely.
And for our peace, we have studied calm.
Tell hope. This will make me kind one day.
Confession: I was sixteen before I ever broke a bone.
This would not matter. I have broken other things
but forgot their names. I walked on the
pain, swore it would stay, I
never said a word.
Pain, I'm told, is a balm to the
scaffolding of the soul.
I closed a door on two toes they
snapped there was no grand lesson
and I walked,
waiting for character
you might guess how that ended.
Emma Johnson-Rivard is a Masters student at Hamline University. She currently lives in Minnesota with her dogs and far too many books. Her work has appeared in Mistake House, the Nixes Mate Review, and Moon City Review. Her chapbook, The Witch’s Cat And Her Fateful Murder Ballads, was released by the Esthetic Apostle.