Resolve
January - April, 2012: eleven Delaware teens take their own lives,
another 116 attempt suicide.
The glint from a father’s
safe, a smooth edge of a worn medicine
cabinet, that belt you wore to junior
prom and never again. A pact,
but you didn’t know each other, would
never sit together. Come hang
with us sloppily scribbled on the welcome
sign installed last year; a layer
of paint covers it, but not before
half the school has posted. Boots
crunching in the snow outside
drown out.
Mr. Frankenstein on What to Keep
Alphabetized cereals, wine bottles
with the labels facing out, and a damp
indent in a king-sized
mattress. Sometimes the earth forgets
that it is responsible for living
things. In the winter, the cold
holds onto odors and breathes
them into itself, recycling back
neighborhood gossip. Sometimes
your boss takes two weeks to report
you missing. You loved the calm
months of snow so much, you took
some inside to keep
in the freezer, hoping to glance
at it come April. But even you
can’t possess the sky’s
children. They will come sneaking
from the kitchen, sliding down
your throat, into your chest. Nature’s kindness
will allow rapidity. Sometimes
your neighbor will laugh at how lonely
you were and then buy your car
from your sister.
Chelsea N. Fabian is an earthbound spirit who spends too much time staring at the moon. She is currently an English and ESL instructor at Delaware Technical Community College, and plans to attend a PhD program beginning in Fall 2020 studying contemporary American literature and gender and queer theory. She enjoys writing pieces that whisper quietly while gently sinking their teeth into your insides.