SENIOR ISSUE: Dandelions
By Jayla Jones
Dandelions
by fourth year Jayla Jones
8
Dozens of white, fluffy seeds tickle your nose as you romp through the lush fields brought about by the spring rain
The sky is clear save for a few cirrus clouds scattering the warmth from the sun
You’re entranced by the melodic laughter pouring from the lips of your friends and the very depths of your chest
Nothing is as sweet as the honeysuckles hanging from the trees above you
You wish for never ending recess
9
Your “special day”
Lit candles sit atop a white icing coated cake as you wonder if the indigo wax will tarnish the “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” exclamation below
and if phone calls to heaven exist
Despite the sugar coating your tongue not tasting as sweet
You wish for the impossible
14
The laughs are still the same, but instead of plush grass and blue skies, it’s empty parking lots and a star spotted night
It’s playing truth or dare at your first sleepover and stumbling over your reddened cheeks and twisted tongue as you try yet fail to conceal the identity of your hidden crush
The hallways are loud and the classes are monotonous
But the tufts of white gently moving with the wind still welcome you from between the cracks in the concrete during lunch
You wonder who will ask you to prom
17
Suddenly
The laughter has faded and you’re all too aware of your body
Suddenly
The voices of your peers seem too loud and overstimulation consumes your body
Causing you you to seek shelter in the back of an empty classroom
and till a plot in your mind for weeds to take root
Suddenly
The lack of prospective eyes appraising your worth and empty message inboxes
somehow feel heavier than the four dates your best friend has lined up for herself the following week
You never did get that ask to prom
20
A new beginning
A metamorphosis of sorts
The weight of your skin is no longer so heavy
and you’ve finally begun to build immunity to the poison that once held you hostage within the confines of your very brain
The air is a little bit sweeter
and the colors just a bit brighter
You gaze upon a few white tufts dancing with the wind and think
A few more more minutes of sunset would be nice
21
A time trademarked by lasts
Where reflection once sunk its claws and sought marks that would scar
now lay only bumps and bruises adorned with the bows and ribbons of those dedicated to helping you sow and harvest your own prosperity
You no longer continue to grind salt into the wound that once haunted you on your 9th birthday
and hope that a pair of eyes are watching you from within the cirrus clouds that bore witness to your scraped knees that kissed the gravel during recess
Bending down to greet the fluffiness at your feet, you gently pluck the light green stem from the earth and begin reacquainting yourself with an old friend and the remnants of your childhood
You wish for just one more day
I thought I rid myself of wishing a long time ago
Left it between the pages to dry inside the closed book of my past that once bore the weight of my adolescence
Yet the seeds I once blew as a child managed to take root
Pollinated by the stories of my youth
and watered with the tears of my recovery
Though the impossible remains a ghost of my past, I’d like to think he sent me a to a girl with a farm and wove my fate with a set of red highlights and a pair of wire rimmed glasses who helped forge the path that led me to a set of green eyes to match his
As I lay among the chains of flowers braided by my mother, I can once again gaze upon the earth, wading past the weeds, and rekindle the embers of my youth, fueled by my dreams set afloat the white, fluffy seeds I once sowed as a child