cartwheels by sofia sears
I am panting through hell-
ricocheting headspins; pavement breakdowns
pencil-dust tantrums in bitten notebooks
the shroud of teenagehood bleeding,
staining the shirt.
I saw what started it.
the sordid adolescent, apricot lips,
hiding our quiet thrashing behind a doormat; a spider crumbled in our doorway- never throw it away,
never pick it up-
let it stay; acrid insect guts that do not disintegrate
dismembered dreams flickering like light-up mildew
where girlhood goes to shrink- where festering hymns of our infancy shriek in cages.
flesh as memory-
a fabric knit with skull and teeth
taste-tester of limbless sleep-
encroached in joints and missing eyes
these people fit into hollowness, I don’t know how
the androgynous thing called loss is made female;
candor bruises my tongue
throataches coiled under soft-spokenness
misery storaged in eye bags
speak for themselves
I’m sorry I have to do it.
selves whittled from paper, smallness,
groaning underneath solitude and math tests
we are rotting starflesh cloaked in reassurances,