The Erased Name

Julia Sagolsem *

Dear Self,

Through the veil in the night,
Sleeping through the barks;
I open my eyes in horror,
Yet again,
Only greeted by the low-lit light
Next to the table in sight;
I clench my blanket to sleep tight
Only to fail every single night,
But it starts feeling fuzzy
Like a dream hugging me—
I’m sinking through my sheets.

A huge, green field is where I lay
I blink— hit with winds that soar;
A world without my name,
But why does it still feel the same?
Why do the rivers still flow?
Why do the winds still blow?
Why do the birds still coo?
Why does the sun still set?
Why does it feel lighter,
Without my silhouette?
Why do I feel like a bird set free?

No one to remember me:
No faces, no voices;
Not a human in sight!
Someone sane might be scared,
But I’d rather dance without a care;
Music flows in
And I hum a note no one wrote—
Loud and feral;
It must make the birds shiver and flinch,
And the rivers turn white in glitch!
For a moment I thought I could grow wings.

But now I’m floating,
I claw the soil in defiance;
I start feeling my warm sheets,
Rising from beneath;
A voice seeps in—
“Lily, Lily…”, my mother calls,
I stare at myself on this bed;
Was the dream a mercy
Or the truth I crave
Of the world with the erased name?

Love,
Julia Sagolsem