Julia of Oceania · Poetry · writing

Emergency Contact

Emergency Contact


It’s funny the way that everything can fall apart all around me, and yet, I am nearly unaffected.

When life gives you shit over lemons, you learn to realign your expectations.


But then I stare at the form –

The line that reads: EMERGENCY CONTACT.

I am transported to a place where I am unconscious in a ditch.

Who will EMS call?

Who will answer the call in the middle of the night?


I can hold my own hand.

I can dry my own tears.

I cannot be my own next of kin.


In a world where I’ve become conditioned to be my own everything, this feels fallible.

Part of me would find resolve in dying in that ditch.

Rather than feel their pitiful gaze, a look of realization in their eyes that communicates:


Oh, she’s all alone.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s