"Light Cycles" by Kaleah McClure

Light Cycles

                       There’s a traffic light 

by my old school and the light is always 

green.                             I pass it each day, 

never trusting its constant truth, emeralds

shining                                in my rearview 

mirror, mocking.

          Neighbors say it’s broken, that it’s

forgotten the side streets exist somehow, 

circadian circuits 

             sleeping on the same 

             signal.        

                     I’m my own such broken clock,

ticking out of time in predictable patterns, 

a rhythm ignored       until it’s inconvenient. 

Like how I      travel the same paths that dig 

into my skin and take longer to clear, how I 

circle around these streets like I’ll find my

way back to you somehow,                  how I 

remembered your birthday but didn’t say 

a word. 

I felt the 3rd slip

          tersely through my lips, 

               choking on it like cigarette smoke. 

I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me, 

or maybe I didn’t believe there was a

language we both spoke anymore. 

You blew out your candles and extinguished 

me, as I silently wished you something I’ve 

now forgotten.

              You’re a fixture of this world. A 

landmark. A streetlight. Something 

nobody owns,                            no message

or command, just present, glowing around

me in the night. 

     And I’m a fool. 

               I used to want to tear you down 

and take you home with me but now I just

keep driving. I don’t make stops anymore.

You 

never moved a muscle.                               

               And all for the better.           

                                          There’s something 

ethereal shining through you 

                           and the light is always gold. 

I tell everyone              I knew it wouldn’t last 

and it feels like I’m lying,         lying through

my stained teeth.

---

Kaleah McClure is a freshman at Kansas State University and a lover of words. She was raised in Olathe, Kansas, where she'd often leave the public library with a teetering stack of books (of which she'd get around to reading about half of, at best). When she is not representing Hale Library as a Library Ambassador or coordinating with SJA, she can be found reading, writing, drawing, listening to video essays, or watching Star Trek.

IG: @kaleahmcclure