Nothing Grows in the Garden

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Nothing Grows in the Garden by Molly Voit - Photo by Caroline Koppel

I am a blanket of dry soil,
I crumble like forgotten pine needles held between two small fingers.
I can’t breathe,
I soak up the burning sun without giving in return.

I am a tombstone,
My edges rough like your grandfather’s uncut cuticles,
Watchers sit in my presence,
Their eyes rolling back and forth,
mourning the ruins they thought weren’t theirs.

They eat me,
their bodies fill with lifeless earth,
pushing through their skulls.
They need to burn
before a new garden can grow.

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Molly Voit is a high school senior from Riverdale, New York. She attends Elisabeth Irwin High School in downtown Manhattan where her favorite subjects are English, science, and art. Outside of class, Molly enjoys running on her track and cross country teams, reading, listening to podcasts, and playing with her two dogs.
Accompanying photo: “Lily Sullen” by Caroline Koppel