I, unlike my loved ones, am not wholly convinced I am of this world.
I look the part until I stare too long;
I act the part, but there are gaps in the script;
I trust the part, except when I feel the hum in the wild – tugging me towards something strange and familiar.
the god of the lost; the goddess of the forgotten
Sometimes I still ponder all the possibilities of that hum, but I am no longer tempted to reach the source.
I don’t believe I was made for this world;
there is too much that is too complicated. I have feared that the world will beat me just the same, only to find me splattered under its pressure like an insect at the mercy of a child who knows no better. As long as I have a plan, I have a hope to beat society at its own game.
I have a hope to resist the hum.
But there is some beauty in this strange world too – in the sunsets and sunrises, in a piano chord, in a flower, and in a penny. In the euphoria of creation, in breathless lungs filled by fresh air, in the silence below water, in the ringing in my ear.
If I am just a husk, a replacement, a placeholder, I can at least hope to find escape from reality’s crusades in the simplest peaces.
I, unlike my loved ones, am not wholly convinced I am of this world.
I, unlike my past self, am no longer interested in finding out.
Sarah is a freshman majoring in Business Administration at St. Norbert College. She enjoys a variety of styles and mediums across her writing and art. She currently works in the Writing Center on campus in addition to running her own small business selling her artwork. In her free time, she enjoys reading and writing, sewing, knitting, and spending time outside with family and friends hiking, biking, and kayaking.
