Juice

Poetry by Lily Burke

Photo by Ohmky on Unsplash

Sometimes I feel like I’m staring at a cup
And each time I share a secret a little bit of juice is added to the cup
And you’ll find someone who will drink the juice, little sips, taking bits and pieces of each secret.
And there’s a balance, a secret for a sip, the cup always staying half full.
But sometimes my hand slips and I pour one too many secrets into my cup.
And the juice is rising but they aren’t drinking fast enough, taken aback by the flow of juice.
Once balance is lost the juice can’t stop, and now it’s spilling over the edges.
It’s soaking the table cloth and one hand is pouring juice and the other is trying to dry the puddle with napkins.
The thing about napkins though is you need too many to soak up the puddle.
And you can’t get more napkins because you’re still pouring juice.
And your pour and pour and pour until there’s no juice left.
But at that point the table cloth is drenched and you’re standing there watching juice drip onto the floor when you should be grabbing napkins.
The sound of dripping juice, that hits the floor with a soft splatter seems to be getting louder and you’ve realized you spilled too much but you can’t fix it.
You can’t put the juice back into the bottle, it’s too late.
And you’re frozen, you wish the juice would freeze too because you can pick up ice with you hands but you can’t pick up juice. It slips through your fingers and falls back on the table.
And you’re so busy trying to scoop up juice with your hands you don’t notice the drinker is back.
The mess has been made, but the puddle isn’t getting any bigger.
And they brought a towel, maybe even two.
They soak up the juice, they clean the table and the floor and sip from the glass until balance is restored.
And they pick up the bottle that had rolled onto the floor when your hands were too wet to hold onto it.
And now you’re holding the bottle and they’re holding damp towels that are stained. But the mess is cleaned and you feel lighter now
The bottle won’t be empty forever, it’ll refill and you’ll pour it again.
And there will be days when you lose control and the cup over flows but they will be there with towels that are now dry but still stained,
Because you don’t forget the spilled juice, you clean it up and move on but you accept that the towels stained and so is the table cloth,
And that’s okay, because a stained towel still works and a cup that’s allowed liquid to spill over it’s rim still holds liquid.
And you still are holding a bottle of juice
And they are still holding the towels
And it will be okay
Because we don’t cry over spilled juice.

About Lily Burke 265 Articles

Lily Burke is a junior at Clayton A. Bouton High School and a frequent contributor to the magazine.

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