Nothing Was Left
by Marilyn Lowell
There was nothing left
There was hill
There was wind
There was nothing
Nothing but our innocence drowned
Dead to our own souls
But who needs innocence
When it can be traded for
The most amazing mint cigarette ever
The iced tea that smells like whiskey
Nothing is left.
It’s just us
We all stare at it
The fire at our feet
Calling it to burn us
But it won’t
What is our innocence?
It’s the ashes.
The only thing to rise from that is dust
And we throw more wood on the fire as we
Sputter out adult lies and
What have our dreams become? Burned by our “maturity”
Ashes to greet the ones of our innocence
What can rise from these ashes?
What lays in the ashes is different
A red glow
A softer promise than getting older
Burning nails caught in the wood
And those nails will burn
Burn till they are the sun and get attention
For now the nails rest in the gray ashes
Nothing is left of the childhood fort
We built in the tree
Well I’m fifteen and I’ve been writing since I could write. I love writing and reading and books and pretty much everything literary. Erudite I know.