Something Else

By Chanel Brenner

You always wanted to be something else.

A cheetah, Santa Claus, a butterfly.

You were never still.

It was like your feet barely

touched the ground.

You were not rooted to the earth.

You floated like a cloud

low to the ground, changing shape

moving unpredictably.

Sometimes I could almost see through you

like a bubble and I feared you would disappear.

Or float to where I could no longer see you.

What are you now?

A flicker of light?

An unexpected surge of water?

A false alarm?

I look into the sky for you

but not through my eyes

and time dissolves

like the gravity of two worlds

has pulled it all together

and we are something else.


Chanel Brenner is a writer living in Los Angeles with her husband and their four-year-old son. She is the winner of the national “Words For Riley Poetry Contest” and her work has been published or is forthcoming in Caveat LectorCultural Weekly, L.K. Thayer’s Poetry Juice Bar, Memoirs Ink, ONTHEBUS, and The Coachella Review. She studies with the poet Jack Grapes and is a member of his L.A. Poets & Writers Collective. The poem, “Something Else,” is part of her collection of poems and essays about the death of her six-year-old son. The collection is called “The Christmas Boy Will Not Disappear” and was written during the first year of grief. Her hope is that her writing will help others heal and realize that they are not alone in their pain.

One Response to “Something Else”

  1. Bambi says:

    Ahhhh Chanel. This poem is a tender ouch with hope. Grief in the clouds and the bubbles, then wham! “… like the gravity of two worlds has pulled it all together and we are something else.” A powerful poet you are. I adore your work and you.