top of page

A Picture in my Nightstand by Ella Goelman

May 15
2 min read

The other day I was cleaning my room

I found old photos of a girl I once knew 

Her hair was longer and her eyes were sadder

But I traced the line of her nose

And I traced mine


I looked at the crooked teeth

That adorned her labored smile

And I wondered

How is it that she and I are the same person?

How is it that she thinks this is her last photo

When I sit here and look through twenty taken after?

How is it that she wants to die

When I have lived a life in the wake of those blue days and not regretted one?


I looked at her chubby cheeks

And I wondered

How was this the person I hated?

How did I look at her with disgust

When all I can see now is an eleven year old with sun on her face


I looked at her matted hair

And I wondered

How did I not love her?

How did I not think she was loved?

I want to scream at the pictures

“I LOVE YOU”

I know she wouldn’t listen even if she could hear

But I want to tell her anyway


I wanted to tell her about a lot of things

Like the movie I watched with my friends 

And the salt-water taffy I ate

And even my homework


I wanted to tell her that it will get better

That in a few years she’ll have a show she watches with her mom

And a go-to restaurant to DoorDash from

And a queen-sized bed that she’ll go to sleep in every night excited to wake up the next morning

And a life that makes her smile


It’s alright

She’ll find out soon

She’ll smile soon


I put the pictures into my nightstand

And I kept cleaning my room

 



 
 

Recent Posts

See All
Quiet in the Wetlands by Evan Schwartz

The reeds swayed to the side, Slow dancing in the breeze, The land just beside, The South Jersey sea. The sun shined on the Wetlands, On a sweltering summer day, “Saltwater floods the sand,” Was

 
 
Quarrel by Nadja Kottak

Does it kill you Or make you stronger? Break you down- And bring you back up again? Does it brighten your life? Or darken the clouds- And make it harder to breathe? Maybe it just sits there Like a sec

 
 
Let it Snow by Xavi Burde

Flowers wither, flowers bloom. Thus I rise. Speak your wish. I was told life is like the seasons, an infinite cycle. Yet somewhere along the way, my world was reduced to fields of frozen white.

 
 

© 2026 • THE EIDOLON • WALT WHITMAN HIGH SCHOOL

bottom of page