“Avalanche” – Rachael Blaine


Bug is a cute nickname until you find out the bugs are real, creepy crawling over coffee cups and couch cushions

When you live with a hoarder, you get used to clutter

You get used to stepping around picked-over paper plates and piles of half-priced pants


Is a word I use to sort the unsorted, make short work of old porn mags and Christmas decorations that have been nothing more than clutter

For the past two years

My mother calls this “clutter”

Organized chaos

And I vow to be all of the organization

And none of the clutter


My instinct is to push away clutter

But clutter

Never goes away clutter

Just moves from one place to another uncluttered

Place until it too becomes too cluttered

Again to be considered anything other than an avalanche of error and when everything that happens to you is more clutter

There is never a comedown, and clutter

Spreads through space, pervades what came before

Until before is no more than mourning


My bedroom is a mess of clutter

Of paper and pens to sort out my head

Because I would rather have clutter

On the page than clutter

On the brain

And the clutter

I can see is the clutter

I know how to deal with.


Still, my brain is a mass of clutter

A conglomeration of imagination on top of trauma, on top of homework, on top of half-done to-do lists on top of clutter

Sometimes I try to make to-do lists of to-do lists just so I can feel less cluttered

And then I see what my mother means, how clutter

Is a wall on the edge of a cliff

The only way to get rid of it is to get out of it

Become an anti-clutter-ist


A minimalist.

The simplest way to live

Dive off the cliff of clutter

Rejoice at the thought of another

Fresh start

Until I realize

That the clutter

Is in my heart.



Rachael Blaine is a Junior Creative Writing and Publishing & Editing major from Elizabethtown, Pennsylvania. Her hobbies include driving alone on back roads and talking about her cats, and she enjoys using as many semicolons as she can get away with. She believes that art is the loaded weapon of the future and aspires to dedicate herself to helping create the ammunition.

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