There is no beautiful way to say some things.

You left and then I was sad. Around me, June

fell like little droplets, imbibing life into an

empty canvas. I wish you could love me

the way I wanted you to. These days I can’t help

but mourn it all: the black cat I had growing up,

the best friend who moved away, the boy

I promised I would marry. In the end, it all

escapes me over and over again. I do not learn

that I can’t hold running water. I thought

showing you the truth would make you leave

but you didn’t need to see anything. I miss you

with an ache that lives in the kitchen cupboards.

Every night I open them and wonder about the

kind of person I am becoming. I eat a lot but

I’m never full. I don’t occupy a space anymore,

I’ve become a peripheral girl. Perhaps that is

for the best. I think it’s the only way you can love me,

you know, when you can’t see all of me.

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Vaneeza Sohail is a writer with roots entangled deep in Karachi. Her work has been published in Diode Poetry Journal, Wildness Journal and is upcoming in Driftwood Press and Passages North. When she isn’t writing, she’s giving her cat Dipper a little kiss.