Lindsey McGuire is a third year student at UMD going for an English major with a Communication minor. She wants to use her degree in editing or publishing fields and hopes to work from home so that she can travel. In the meantime, she is happy being a cat mom while working at Pizza Luce to get “that bread.” This is her first time writing for The Bark. McGuire also hopes to publish a poetry book in the future.

Queen Midas

Snow days with you are the best.

School is canceled. Work called:

They’re closing early and don’t

Need me for the night shift.

Today just happens to be your day off.

Yet, you’re still the first one up —

As if the hostile weather outside

Is no more threatening than a baby bunny —

As I cower under seven blankets,

And our cat takes your place beside me.

Even though I love his cuddles,

I cannot stand the shape of your absence.

Against every other instinct,

I leave the cocoon to the cat,

Grab the bathrobe I keep on standby,

And head to the kitchen where I find you

Every morning.

The eggs smell amazing.

The bacon is perfectly crisp.

I can’t believe everything you touch

Turns to pure gold.

Without turning around you say:

“Hi, Love.”

My hands have found your waist,

Fitting my own curves to yours,

Like grossly cliched jigsaw pieces.

I am no longer cold.

HeLEOcentric

I watch you flit about the sky,

Commanding my vision

And waiting

For me to say something

Anything

To cross the divide we both

Perpetuate.

I can never understand you.

Every attempt ends without

Answers, just more questions.

You truly are the only one

Who has given me so many

Questions

About what I am

What I want

What I need

What I can handle  

But speculation can only get one

So far.

Our times never lined up.

When you were ready,

I wasn’t.

When I was,

You weren’t.

And now you have a new Other.

But I don’t think she’s

Enough.

Just like how the last one wasn’t

Enough,

Or the one before her,

And how I am not

Enough.

The yearning in my soul

Cannot crush the shame,

Because you deserve the world.

And for all the things you make me feel

I am,

I know that your world is something

I am not.

Netflix and Chill

Imagine a girl sitting

Next to a boy on a couch

And she’s curled under his arm

Not because the movie is scary,

Or the room is cold,

Or she is tired,

Or she’s tryna...y’know…“chill.”

It is because she needs

No excuse. He lends

Simply because she accepts.

These two exist in their own land,

A rarity free from outside influence.

She is mostly thankful for

His large and gentle

Hands

That keep her together

When she lacks the strength

To do it for herself.

He, in turn, appreciates

Her small and rugged

Hands

And how they defy all dainty

Works in favor of hard labor

And feisty fields of practice.

He is her rock

She is his hero.

In this safe, warm limbo

They decompress and

Exchange the reins of worry

Which are far less heavy in

Someone else’s hands.

They are more than friends, but not

In the sense we have all come to

Understand. As persons, their only duty

To one another is to accept and support.

To Love ♦︎