This morning, I stayed in bed a few extra hours
Wishing for cement to replace the blood in my veins
So I’d never have to move again…
It’s been 3 months since I left Boston
Concrete and glass shattered on asphalt
I missed being able to go barefoot outside
I never felt as alone as I did on crowded subway cars
100 other people with
1000 other stories that they’re
All trying to keep each other from reading over their shoulder…
It’s rush hour
The train is full, my leg is pressed against that of a strangers
I remember what it feels like to touch another person
I turn to her and say “Good morning”
She turns to me and says “I’m sorry”
And leaves
I don’t know how to say I wish she had stayed
I don’t know how to say that in a city with a population of almost seven hundred thousand
I know I can’t be the only one who feels comfort in accidental contact
And I wonder if people only live in cities like this to forget that they’re alone…
This morning, I stayed in bed a few extra hours
Wishing that today I could become only atoms
Only the smallest droplets of water
Become only mist
Descending through ferns that were never told not to climb trees
Through moss that couldn’t tell ground from bark
Become dew drops in spider webs
Pulling them down to test their strength against steel…
It’s been 3 hours since I walked out on our fight
Angry at myself for wasting another week at home
I know I shouldn’t have taken it out on you
And I know I shouldn’t have slammed the door without letting you know I still love you
But I’ve been having trouble coming back from the woods here
Because I wish I could be like them
I wish I could be home to everyone who leaves to be alone
I wish I could echo their secrets in birdsongs and rivers eroding away at their banks…
This is the first new piece I’ve finished since I came to Olympia
It’s hard to write with your eyes closed
Afraid to see the pages staring back at you
Questioning whether you deserve to hold a pen at all…
This morning, I stayed in bed a few extra hours
Trying to finish this poem
And I know that I’ll probably rewrite it tomorrow
But maybe if I get it all down I’ll find that I knew the right things to say all along
Maybe I’ll find the cure for my depression hidden between the lines of my own work
Maybe I don’t need to wait for the sun to come out
Maybe I only need to get up


Photography © Allison Goldin

Photography © Allison Goldin


Scarlett Perdersen is a multi faceted artist, having explored the possibilities of poetry, music composition and performance, visual art, and the intersection between them. Scarlett currently resides in Olympia, Washington, pursuing her artistic passions on the West Coast. Scarlett also enjoys bizarre internet humor, and is allergic to cantaloupe.

Allison Goldin is an artist living in California. Her work is a collection of spontaneous drawings from the imagination. The most common link throughout her art are the semi-recognizable creatures scattered amongst and bringing together the surrounding doodles.


Liked it? Take a second to support Oddball Magazine on Patreon!