Deep in My Drawer

We changed.

I outgrew my blunt bob.

You live in the future.

But like steam fading from a mirror.

Good! I miss you!

More desperately than the beast with his glassed rose,

I thought if I stayed still enough—

Friendship is not a photograph

You didn’t hug me when I cried alone in my dorm, homesick

But we laughed half-asleep on the bed under a looming sun

My fullest, realest moments

You didn’t flinch.

A vintage Chanel worth more than anything still sealed in its box.

Because what’s worn is also what’s survived.

I type about writing

I have good handwriting

But it depends on the situation

When I have to write fast

When I’m too lazy

When I don’t have any energy to spend

I scribble

When I feel like being pretty

When it has to be presentable

When I show it to others

When it has to be aesthetically pleasing

I write every stroke with great care and love

My handwriting can be bad or good

But it’s never terrific

It can be

Only if I spend a lot a lot of time and effort

Until my neck

Shoulder

Back

Fingers hurt and ache

Is it worth?

Sometimes I do it

But should I always do it?

Until the terrific handwriting becomes my norm and usual

But can it be?

I enjoy writing pretty

Not just because of others reaction

Though I don’t remember the last time I was being terrific

Alexis Lee is a high school student and emerging poet who finds inspiration in fleeting moments, music, and the quiet details of daily life. Her work explores themes of memory, transformation, and human connection. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading contemporary poetry, listening to indie music, and exploring local bookstores.