Written by Alejandra Medina
wedge it between the sidewalks’
cracks and step over them lightly
like a child afraid of breaking
their mother’s back or bury it in
the sock drawer with the mismatched
pairs you swear no one will notice
or stick it into the chorus of that song
the neighbor is always playing,
you know the one (love gone wrong
sung in spanish always sounds
like such fun) or toss it out
the window or entomb it between
the pages of a book or drop it
in the gutter or leave it
between the sheets before you
awaken and pray that it’s gone
by the time you come back,
because sweet dreams never seem
to resume when you most want
them to and (maybe the pain)
maybe the pain is like that
Alejandra Medina
Alejandra Medina is a Latina writer and current undergraduate student, born and raised in the city of Los Angeles, California. Recipient of a Scholastic Art & Writing Award, her work has appeared in several places, most recently Unpublished Magazine and Lucky Jefferson, with other publications forthcoming.