Earthbound
Maybe I’ve already died//and been sent back
Time//after time//after time//again
Like the person who uses their second wish//to forget the first
Only to use their third//to reinstate the now-unknown original:
without the gift of learning from the past//we have no way of knowing the alternatives
So it’s better to trust that this//right now//is better than the alternative
Even if I don’t remember//what exactly the alternative was
I don’t know what it was like in the interim
But what I do know
Is that at the moment
I get to take advantage of everything
That’s now available here for me
Everything I probably missed
If I could remember missing it
Can you miss your hometown
If the memory is scrubbed
Squeaky Clean
With steel wool?
The heart knows there’s something to miss
And even if you don’t mourn the place
You can still mourn the memory
And feel where it used to be
Like a tongue probing where a tooth was
I don’t know what used to occupy this space
But I do know that plenty of other things
Appear to fit nicely
In the gaps that may have been left behind
Swimming in the ocean
On the night of a full moon
Watching the tree line get thicker
And the mountains getting larger
And larger
To the point that they get small again
Overwhelming emotions
That slosh throughout the chemicals
Clearing out the sinuses
And the soul
With ruthless efficiency
But a feeling of catharsis after the storm
The blissful mundanity
And overwhelmingly modern convenience
Of picking items up
Off of a grocery store shelf
Time after time after time again
Loving
And being loved
I like how these things fit
In the [redacted] space
It can be good here
Maybe it’s for the best
I can’t remember what it’s like
To really and truly lose all of it
To remember what it feels like
For it to suddenly be gone
Out of my grasp
And then finally
(Cruelly)
(Blissfully)
Returned to a more
Appreciative
Open hand
Even when it doesn’t remember why it’s open
Even if all it knows
Is that inevitably it’s been posed
Frozen
Cemented in place
With the intention
Of finally
Grasping
Something
Allison Rueb (she/they) is a newly emerging poet whose work attempts to explore the quiet moments and overlooked details of everyday life. Drawing inspiration from personal reflection, nature, and the shifting textures of memory, her writing seeks to illuminate the emotional undercurrents beneath ordinary experiences. New to the literary landscape, Allison is currently developing their first collection while sharing individual poems through workshops, local readings, and online publications. They are passionate about experimenting with form, voice, and imagery as they continue to discover their place in the world of contemporary poetry.
Amethyst Review 