Things Which Float To the Top

by Yasmin Ramirez

I am a soup on the stove

blue orange gassed fueled fire

heating me up s l o w l y

I start to simmer.

tiny bubbles disturb

wriggle across the

smooth soupy surface

tiny irritations in life

I cannot control.

tomato liquid erupts

the people who’ve failed,

I avoid, they’ll see

themselves sinking

to the murky bottom

the people I trusted

with my heart, raw

only to be as careless

as the man who blackened, burned

.

I am a soup on the stove.

the blue orange gassed fueled fire

has not increased. Only

the heat in the soup has.

I gurgle, splash, the extra

ingredients, salt, pepper,

onion, seethe, scald over time

rising hot humid steam.

tiny cubes, beige chicken bounce

off the metal bottom of the pot

rise to the surface

things I wish to avoid.

Heavy problems sink down

the dark bottom seen

in spaces such as these

they are my dad, the man,

who deserves to be chicken

and my grandma who died

without letting me say good-bye

how selfish of her.

I spill over, tomato-base soup

bleeding in front of the world.

it gawks, eyes open wide, unblinking

I froth over my own reflection,

spilling, pooling, mess

I can’t stop laughing.

laughter. bubbling up

joining the simmering surface

I am a soup on the stove

the blue orange gassed fueled fire is

bursting, popping with each drop

running, down the steamy metal pot

my life boiling ripples moving

across the surface they geyser

dome like burst in the agitation

of my soup

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