WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE SOFT
I want to word vomit into their pocket.
Let them take the rot home and find it
when they search
their clothes for money and pens
before putting them in the wash.
It’s been so long since I’ve shared my soul with someone.
Maybe I’m not living
right if there’s not a person I want
to tell everything. The night
is too small for me to give to.
5'1", 140 lbs. was never enough to contain
the hurricane of ache
and joy inside me.
Sometimes I spill out.
Sometimes I spill in. Sometimes
I think I love you and remember I don’t.
Others times, I don’t think
and love you still.
There’s never a moment I’m not in love
with a human,
a leaf,
water. This is why
I perpetually overflow.
This is how
I exist.
Let them take the rot home and find it
when they search
their clothes for money and pens
before putting them in the wash.
It’s been so long since I’ve shared my soul with someone.
Maybe I’m not living
right if there’s not a person I want
to tell everything. The night
is too small for me to give to.
5'1", 140 lbs. was never enough to contain
the hurricane of ache
and joy inside me.
Sometimes I spill out.
Sometimes I spill in. Sometimes
I think I love you and remember I don’t.
Others times, I don’t think
and love you still.
There’s never a moment I’m not in love
with a human,
a leaf,
water. This is why
I perpetually overflow.
This is how
I exist.
Olivia D'Atri graduated from Saint Joseph's University in 2014 with a B.A. in English. Her poetry focuses on intimacy, awareness, and understanding the storms within. She lives in Philadelphia and spends her time writing, cooking vegan food, and thinking about the way these things connect humans to each other. You can read some of her work at swallowingtheocean.tumblr.com or on Instagram @livie_dee.
