“rain in autumn — a triology” by Anya Baldus

stoplight

i wish i could flick my light to E

a car on a midnight street 

alive are solitude lampposts

their flicker mocking me

fingers move fast when the rest of me can't

i’m beating a million times per minute

I flick my light to E

and I stop

to forgive, isn’t to forget

if i took out my heart

laid it on the ground

would you take a step for me

warm sand with cloudy skies

and friends turned strangers

full voicemail for the third time

impossible to know, easy to guess

the doors for you open again

and i forgot to fill your space

so step right in the heart on the ground

and take your place again

enough

how do i know i’m enough

i can hear it in the mouths of my friends

comforting words in a language

my ears can’t understand

i can hear it in the letters on papers 

but how do i know i read it right

if letters on paper mean nothing to me

is it enough to be wanted to be needed to be loved

would i be enough if i said i couldn’t be enough anymore

Anya Baldus is a student in LSA, from Lansing, Michigan, currently working towards an English major and Music minor. Much of their poetry inspiration comes from aspects of their identity – their ethnicity, gender, sexuality, socioeconomic status, and past significant experience all play a role in their creative works.