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  • The American Poetry Review

    THE YEARS OF WRITING

    Mar 01, 2022 1 minute
    LIAM HYSJULIEN

    I didn’t think it mattered, then it mattered, then stopped.I went to seeto fix my gut, and all I took from him was a pill.“Why did you think for so long you had to live like that?”As if it’s easy to know of some other way.As if watching the basement of your house fill withwater and the things you bought and thought you loved becomenothing, as they were made to be dissolved after Idescribed them, and me, and my life, through this language thatcan’t hold anything together. I didn’t knowyou could live atop a flooded house, baking in the sun,and believe the water would return to the rivers.To think I should not live like an animal beggingwith the snare, as if to talk to myself was enough.

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