Not Obsolete

Micaela Kreuzwieser, C’20

Nothing

makes sense anymore.

Hands scribbled, drafted, carefully

printed, primed my thoughts into paragraphs,

sparked embers that spiraled into spasmed, impassioned

debates where words whirled round and round and round my inner contents.

My pages now damp, mildewed with age and shame, as I sit where I was squirreled

on the same shelf with relatives above and below,

held together with the barest fibers

ready to snap except for

the most loving

preservation

that keeps my tender thoughts intact.

Am I

Obsolete

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