by Kayla Xu
the art of regret
she sways softly in a cloak of strawberry wind
white dress melting into yellow ochre fields
a spatter of sunbeams dancing across elastic skin.
tesseracting tumbling tripping down ice-cream-painted boardwalks
slam into skateboards skipping stones
fling yourself into the waves
shudder through the burning sand
blurred silhouettes rippling into foam-streaked skies
the sunset settling into a blush over freckled cheeks.
what is the color of pain
maybe it was the cream of the pale hospital sheets cradling her sharp gaunt frame
or the dying golden glow of her dream, shattered the instant the Ford tumbled down the slope and killed her rose-colored laughter.
or the thousand shades of gray drowning in her eyes
unforgivable. I never want to see you again. Ash. Charcoal. Taupe.
your memories chopped into sun-bleached confetti
the pieces left to papercut your heart.
her mouth twitching hesitantly
It’s been a long time.
all of her slams into you at once like a Munch painting
bending against a crying red sky
except you’re the one screaming without a sound.
Kayla Xu is a 17-year old Asian American who is interested in bridging the gaps between culture, creativity, and emotion. With words strapped on her feet, she treads carefully through forests of real-world complications such as heartbreak, domestic abuse, and estrangement. In her free time, she loves to sing, sketch and play badminton. She looks forward to studying computer science in college, and possibly minoring in creative writing or design.