you will not be found wanting

your mouth is still open

but your breath is not warm.

it comes out cold like the fog.

it is raining inside your mouth

so you cannot scream even

though it is your birthday wish.

your legs begin to fold under you like a deer.

I try to help you up by tying

silver birthday balloons to your wrists.

they look like little moons

but they will not hold you.

I will carry you home

and you will not be found wanting.

when my head is underneath your shirt

it is like being under the blankets

in my childhood bed.

after I leave

your mother will knock 3 times

on the side door

and your father will come out

to walk with her.

when they walk into the dark

you will wonder about me.

you will look at the space between your

tongue and the moon and say

ah what a terrible waste.



Julia Rox is a poet from Nashville, TN. She is a senior at Lipscomb University, studying English: Writing and Philosophy. Her work explores themes of creation and destruction--the creation and destruction we engage in with language as well as the creation and destruction we engage in daily with ourselves and our identity. Her work has been published in On the Cusp Zine, Fractal Magazine, and the Lipscomb College of Arts and Sciences Magazine.