Resin
11
Hazel Milla
I wonder how you feel as you lie there, a tumor pressing on your frontal lobe. I sit beside you with a little jar and resin-wrapped moss inside pain pressing on the inside of my head, held guarded in my cells, captured with now hardened glue: your pain, I like to think, pain I could pick up and roll around in my fingers like moss-fibers, until it disintegrates in the oils of my skin. I wonder if I could preserve your mind and soul in a jar of resin. I like to think and wish; I like to revel in this false permanence I’ve created and try to forget the tumor in your head. I wish I could pull it apart or that I could take it from you and put it in my head so that I could feel your pain, and you wouldn’t have to.
-Hazel Milla is a junior from Chapel Hill, NC, pursuing a major in Neuroscience and a minor in Creative Writing.-
