If everybody was a string,
you’d be a rubber band,
holding us all together
like the bulk of note cards, I used to have,
that rebound leaves a ring of red on my skin.
I would be a piece of fuzz
stuck on freshly laundered clothing,
frayed at the ends.
You pluck me off and send me
to find something else to hold onto.
There are pretty strings, tied in double-knot bows,
strung around important parcels,
and even strings that tie me to you.
Call it ribosome, or chromosome,
but I slide down infinity,
bleeding into the carpet while you wrap around me.
I don’t envy you,
tied around wrists or
Stretch yourself until you break.
When you think to look,
you won’t be able to find me.
Micaela Michalk is a senior at Malone University in Canton, OH. She studies psychology, creative writing, and youth ministry. Writing has always been an important part of Michalk’s life and she will always continue to pursue it, as it helps her express some of her deepest thoughts, emotions, and experiences. She has been previously published once in 30North magazine with her poem “Pas De Deux.”