Hi, I'm Rachel. This is a poem about feeling lost and mattering for the hell of it.
It's made with a grainy iPhone 8 and an absurdly pink makeshift set I constructed from a cheap children's planetarium and a lighter. The light shifts because London can't decide what it wants from the day. Maybe that's the point. Create something, not because it's perfect, but because you can. (Yeah I've seen Euphoria I know what I've done.)

If you’d like to check out any other short poems and doodles, check out [ Ссылка ]

A Sestina is a verse form of six stanzas of six lines each, with the words at the end of each line repeated in a set pattern. This particular rendition is missing one of its stanzas due to the time constraint, but it does exist. Just in a different space.


What I learned alone with night
and drinking for the sake of her
was something of mattering and un-mattering all at once.
Of existing small enough to pray at a thousand beaming gods
and find resolution in the always silence that follows.

Looking back the stars spun like brandy in a glass
while the thing in my chest stumbled inside for a space to sleep.
And so the open space of my being brimmed with night
raising a glass to her manufactured kin in a home I didn’t belong to
of fluorescent light, and offered drink, and sturdy beams

looking small on my side of matter
against the dramatic collision of dark matter rioting space —
the beaming night who winked at me knowing every crushed can and bike part
at my feet is bound to rust before her blink could reach to say we’re the same.
Or else it was the illusion of my drink.

The consequence of filling glasses so light shakes and swells
like fireflies caught in glass jars.
But in that spiral, I mattered as much and as little as space looking back —
and Night, yet beaming, felt as lonely
in-between humans and the rest as I ever could

and she said alone to me,
we’re just things taking up space --
glass and matter.
We’re only held together by our own gravity.
I might have replied

but someone whose name I can’t remember
stumbled outside, took a long drag of a vape,
and sent a sweet cloud across my vision.
Night laughed and carried on
spiraling.

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