by Brianna Schullo
Blame retrograde. Blame stars and space and God.
I was told that there’s no edge of Earth but
Here I lay, teetering and tottering.
Bad yogi, footing failing. “Take a walk,”
Mother says. Picking up my mat, I trip.
My left brain- too heavy, right-brain- too light
“Beware: insanity” picket fence screams
Stable? I wish! Mental gravity pulls
Spirit down. Wait and see.
The inevitability hurting all.
Then tumbling body caught by none other than balance. You! Engineer of guidance.
My savor. Karma pulling strings. You
Are stitching the cuts and slashes of life.
A quilted masterpiece covers me.
The mind is patched.
About the Author
Brianna Schullo is a poet and creative non-fiction writer. She writes to breathe and also to roast the terrible men she has encountered. She graduated from Lake Forest College in 2019 with a Bachelor's degree in English-Writing and a minor in Environmental Studies because climate change is quite horrifying, and she wants it to stop.