3:15am by Gabrielle Roessler

CW: Smoking

She stands in the doorway -

a sad little slash

of sloped shadow -

cutting through the nicotine-stained light,

a defeated dull knife blade

notched uncomfortably

between spaces she’d rather not inhabit.

She stays and smokes,

watches discarded tendrils

root their way into a vanishing act

becoming one with an inky horizon

she wishes she too could burn

and float towards.

She breathes deep,

the contents of her exhale

cradling the parts of her

that dream of solid states.

Gabrielle is a creative sprinter - she writes poems, short stories, and essays that prove she made great returns on her therapy investments. Her piece "Rx for a Dream" won Storyteller's 2021 Poetry Writing Contest and appears in their summer issue. She has additional work appearing in Warning Lines, Hyacinthus Magazine, and Orange Blush Zine. She is inspired by myth, magical girls, a healthy fear of space, and overheard conversations that never happened. Her website is www.gabrielleroessler.wordpress.com. Twitter: @gabbyiswriting