My Sun, You’re Bleeding

By Sadie O’Neill

The man next to me hums.

 He has a voice like water, 

like a running river. 

I want to sit by the river, on the levee, 

watch cars speed on the bridge, and listen 

to the saxophone of the old man asking 

for spare change.

I want to be a swan. 

I want to slow dance on the Seine 

Where I can’t help but reach out to 

grab the water, to dip my hand in the mist. 

Where the wind blows my hair 

into spider legs. 

And I can watch people 

dance in the streets. 

Where whales spin in spirals, sucking krill 

through their broomstick teeth. 

Where I can let the muddy water pool 

around me and push me downstream. 

Where, as the sun lowers, 

it smushes into the river, 

bleeding from its bottom.

I am a 16-year-old in New Orleans, Louisiana. I am a sophomore at The Willow School, and I am a part of the creative writing program there. I'm so excited to share my writing with you!