House of Bone
Welcome to the house of bone,
where adrift memories are consumed
for breakfast, lunch, and dinner
with smiles that dream melancholic lullabies.
Remnants of cheer have faded from the ceiling,
leaving only sanguine splatter from a clenched fist
colliding with flesh, bruising soft cheeks to purple.
The toxic, dark whiff of yesteryear taints the air,
chilling the walls with icy comebacks
and the timbre of frustration turn into creaks
under the chewed-out, putrid floorboards.
There is no life here, only loss and strife,
haunted by ghosts who haven’t moved on
from a land the rest of the universe left behind.
Though, it should be said it was once different,
all those years ago when time didn’t poison the
body like a stinging disease set to dry.
Somewhere remains a moment time forgot, grimaces
only came when it was necessary to mourn and cheers
were the default language of love. The walls were once
colored in bright hues of yellow, lacking anguish,
flourishing embraces and cheeky grins. I’ve learned
better than to hope for a return, for all flowers of white
wilt without water
By Chelsea Anne Sanchez
Chelsea Sanchez is a Psychological Sciences major from the class of 2024. She dabbles in creative writing as she sees fit, expressing her memories on paper whenever possible. She resides in San Diego, longing for a dog, a hazelnut iced coffee, and a bit more excitement.