The earth found in the lungs of the dead
is the trace of a life buried alive.
In the midnight world, where the living’s memories
and the dead’s dreams intertwine,
when I close my eyes,
I feel as though I’m buried in the pit of black air.
With every breath I take,
the black air
blocks my throat, creeping in.
The more I try to escape,
the more black sand
rises up, choking my breath,
piling higher, forming a slope.
My lungs grow weaker,
as I pass through the moments of coughing,
until silence consumes me.
The pit of black air feels like one I’ve dug.
When light arrives
and noise pulls me from the pit,
whoever opens my chest
and discovers the black slope inside,
Let them take it—
a single black flower.
Jennifer Choi is a passionate high school student enrolled at an international school in South Korea. Her love for poetry began at an early age, and she finds inspiration in exploring themes of identity, love, and the complexities of the human experience through her writing.
"Black Flower" by Mike Haufe is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.
