The Reservoir by Paris Mather (Ohio, 21)

Was mad,
Shying,
And scattering.
I knew waiting for me
Was a firm seat.

My heart was packed by
Blocking and waiting.
Between Death,
My coincidence of delay of traffic stood,
Doubtless and unknown.

​I liked him.
He long understood me and
We became the best of friends.
He had killed the average representative
Of travelers and the wanderers of romance.

Joy has always remained
A short tragedy.
The garden aglow, ruins of ancient guests
With whom I had many interesting talks:
A princess and her coachman.
The seduced girl and the young man.

Penniless, she drifted several years.
Suddenly, the wretched,
Beautiful girl
Betrayed conscience,
crushing responsibility with her conviction
To release;
To devote her to life
To refuse such ignominy.

I have forgotten how the
Vague impression was still trying
To persuade her she
Fell ill and died.





Paris Mather is a 21 year old writer from Cleveland, Ohio. For her, writing is a necessity rather than a luxury. As a student at Case Western Reserve University, she spends her time writing, reading, playing piano, cooking, and living through emotions that usually turn into poetry.