Poetry: We are, all of us, looking by McKenna Themm

to call some place home
and find a space in which our
         portraits can
paint the walls and we
can be looked upon as
worthy—even if the haven wrapping
us in warmth
         is only the burn of a soup bowl
against our too eager fingertips.

And when we unlock
         the stubborn door of 308B
we soon forget to notice
the stained carpet
         or the shouting down the hall,
even if it’s something past exhaustion
         when the light slants
through dirty blinds
before we can even fall asleep.

But we forget to notice our
         own undoing
and clench onto the hope that
we are, all of us, looking
         to the day
         when the week
doesn’t end after forty hours, and our
dreams aren’t tumbling around the inside
         of a dollar-fifty washing machine.

And we watch the hair spiral
         around in the tub
that refuses to drain and
         if someone, if anyone even,
would dare to hold us if they knew
just how long we’ve waited
         to be looked upon
and thought of as worthy
         to be looked upon.

McKenna Themm earned her Bachelor of Arts in Literature and Writing and is currently pursuing her Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing. She works as a freelance writer and lives in San Diego, California.

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