Last Chair

in this nod to the childhood game musical chairs and tale of navigating perceived abandonment, Nijah depicts me grappling with the ebb and flow of relationships, some departing more tumultuously than others. initially opting for a harsh severance as a way of negatively coping with what’s been lost, she discovers the gentler path of untangling what restrains her. isolation, once seen as a weakness, transforms into a strength, unveiling the significance of self-presence and the clarity found within one's mind, free from external influences. as she ponders my own solitude-induced questions—Who are you when unseen and is your essence immutable?—we both learn that it’s quite true: it gets lonely at the top.