A Journal

"I'm going to come back to West Virginia when this is over. There's something ancient and deeply-rooted in my soul. I like to think that I have left my ghost up one of those hollows, and I'll never really be able to leave for good until I find it. And I don't want to look for it, because I might find it and have to leave".----Breece D'J Pancake, in a letter to his mother. 

Nadia Jo

Grapefruit Melancholy

At home I curl in the fetal position on the scarred couch,
pick at leather with unfamiliar hands.
My dad is silent when he cuts fruit.

He speaks with the knife instead, carving the blade between
black seeds sewn into the red melon,

each turn of the wrist another month we have lived
apart. He hopes for a mutual understanding
through these midnight rituals, but I

only open my mouth with greed, believing that
filling the chasm between father and daughter seems

to be a task for the scrape of metal against
green and black rinds littering the table. However—

Alone in my dorm room I cannot pretend to know
how to unravel the white veins of grapefruits.



Nadia Jo.jpg

Nadia Jo is a junior at Deerfield Academy. Her works have been recognized by the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards, and they appear or are forthcoming in DIALOGIST, Blue Marble Review, Red Queen Literary Magazine, and Alexandria Quarterly. Nadia serves as a Poetry Reader for The Ellis Review and COUNTERCLOCK. A poetry mentee of Raena Shirali through the 2017 Adroit Journal Summer Mentorship Program, Nadia lives in South Korea.

After a trip to Prague, my dad brought me a small key enclosed in a plastic tube when I was six years old. He claimed it could unlock a secret box full of jewelry hidden in the Prague Castle, and though I only believed him for a year, sometimes I like to pretend I have the power to break into a royal palace.