body shedding its own body
of Akron searching for a place to put
all of this body feeling like I’m just
a broken brake pedal can’t stop
thinking about how my father
is made of gasoline you should
see how he makes everything
burn like our hardwood floors my mother
’s tongue the glass coffee tables clocks
set 35 years backwards beige love seats
deflated pillows porcelain cups my skin
keeps glowing a bright
ember listen to the way the fire
cracks then sizzles listen
sometimes there’s nothing you can do
but strip to bone so that there’s nothing
more to burn.
keep clear of me: i am maneuvering with difficulty
Because it’s 5 A.M & I am hung over sobbing about polar bears & climate change & how the moon won’t answer my calls. Because my brain feels like Jell-O & I am thinking about autumn & how I feel more like those leaves you drag into a building with your boots than anything else. These days, I require assistance, more broken burrito than grape on a vine. I might be on fire. I am dragging my anchor through this giant sea, 73% of me hoping to drown. & speaking of water the clouds keep raining steel as I try to nourish this lavender plant which my therapist recommended I do. & while we’re on the topic of therapy who the fuck decided it’s a good idea to sit & talk about your feelings to a random fellow human. It feels like cutting the grass with a cheese grater or something like that. |
Noor Hindi is a University of Akron student who is majoring in English and minoring in Creative Writing. After graduation, she hopes to pursue her MFA in poetry. Her poems have appeared in Jet Fuel Review, Diode Poetry, Whiskey Island Magazine, and Polaris Literary Magazine. Hindi is currently a poetry reader for BOAAT Journal and Rubbertop Review. Check out her poetry blog at nervouspoodlepoetry.com. |