by Violet Myles, illustration by Anne Pomel
We went hunting for matches
and when we couldn’t find them
in any of the drawers in your house,
I looked inside of you.
How can a person be so empty?
How can a person lose so many matches?
The last flowers in the garden
were peppered with dead bumblebees.
Look at all this death.
Look at all this sadness winter brings.
Part of growing up is learning
when the floor is lava
and when it is just a floor.
Isn’t it strange to think
yesterday I am a boy and today
I am a man.
Violet Myles is a 17 year old aspiring poet/filmmaker. She lives in the suburbs of Philly but hopes to eventually move far, far away from her hometown.
Anne Pomel is a French illustrator. She studied graphic design, then moved to Paris and started to do illustrations for children’s magazines. Then she went back to school to study fashion, did several internships for fashion brands in Paris, returned to illustration and finally moved to Portland. She likes taking pictures and doing embroidery. She’s currently obsessed with Audrey Horne and pancakes. You can find her on Tumblr and Instagram.