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