upside down Cynthia Wang ‘24
our sister comes in iridescent waves— ebbing and flowing with the breeze. flamboyant storms ravage me, along with the coasts that erode the cliffs in our bleached minds. wicked, wicked wounds overwhelm the ephemeral reef. the heart of our own is very much like the sea. we are swept away by the tide— like a drought in our tongues; no one outruns the tsunami. it bears the brunt of our faults and the burdens from our past; not enough, never enough. soon we will be silenced: spit acid on the pale reefs as our siblings bleed black, but all is at peace, we chant; of course, it will all go away. it’s hard to escape the whirlpool when it’s all we’ve ever known. we always want more, don’t we? yet even after all this time— no one dares to raise their fist. why should i care? questions a farmer, even as thunderstorms and tornadoes tear apart the fruits of his labor. why should i worry? inquires a doctor, even as blistering marine heatwaves send thousands to the hospital. why should i bother? asks a businesswoman, even as damages from natural disasters devastate her company’s lifeline. the answer drifts around the globe.
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