I Swallowed All The Water
By Lauren Griffith
I swallowed all the water in my city with one big gulp.
I broke the bridges with my fingers, the ones that I once built. I ruined the roads I once laid with the bottoms of my feet, I tore down the towers I made with the palms of my hands. I watched with my easy eyes as everything I worked to build came streaming down, in puddles and piles. I threw all the remnants of the town I once lived in behind the hills, the mountains I pulled from their place in the earth hundreds of thousands of years ago. I leveled the land with my backbone, as I rolled across it. I plucked the seeds I planted, made them into growing greens. I rest on the roots underneath, lay my head in the undergrowth, as my feet stretch onto the fields I’ve grown. This land will lay upon my body--
just as I once did.
I broke the bridges with my fingers, the ones that I once built. I ruined the roads I once laid with the bottoms of my feet, I tore down the towers I made with the palms of my hands. I watched with my easy eyes as everything I worked to build came streaming down, in puddles and piles. I threw all the remnants of the town I once lived in behind the hills, the mountains I pulled from their place in the earth hundreds of thousands of years ago. I leveled the land with my backbone, as I rolled across it. I plucked the seeds I planted, made them into growing greens. I rest on the roots underneath, lay my head in the undergrowth, as my feet stretch onto the fields I’ve grown. This land will lay upon my body--
just as I once did.
The Sun
By Lauren Griffith
I tried to be the sun.
I rose like I felt the burning of its gases beneath me.
I peeked inside closed curtains and gently opened shut eyes.
I let the world nestle itself inside my heart—because it was the only place in my body large enough.
Few hid in the crevices.
They hid in that spot just beneath alarm clocks and underneath the covers that I couldn’t reach.
The fire from my eyes set light to too long damaged trees.
Neither the rain nor the moon could repair them.
I lept behind mountains and cast shadows in the seas when it was time for me to leave.
I rose like I felt the burning of its gases beneath me.
I peeked inside closed curtains and gently opened shut eyes.
I let the world nestle itself inside my heart—because it was the only place in my body large enough.
Few hid in the crevices.
They hid in that spot just beneath alarm clocks and underneath the covers that I couldn’t reach.
The fire from my eyes set light to too long damaged trees.
Neither the rain nor the moon could repair them.
I lept behind mountains and cast shadows in the seas when it was time for me to leave.
About the Author
Hello, my name is Lauren Griffith. I am a sophomore here at Cal majoring in English with a Journalism concentration. A fun fact about me is that I am an identical twin.