Sharp pangs Stab my stomach On my back, In pain. A hole inside of me, I am not complete. My vagina is a gateway for the other. I want to take a needle and pierce the eye with red thread, I want to sew together the lips that engulf my emptiness. Red. Flesh. Raw. My…
Creative Writing
The Pleasure of A Broken Rib
It can be hard to explain The pleasure of a broken rib. Bruises bloom across the soil beds of your chest, The warmth of the consistent ache Almost like a friend in its constancy. Fingers press and jab and fondle just to remind yourself that Yep, still stings like a net of nettles. But the…
Creative Writing
Head-Cold
My nose, a dripping tap Throat embalmed with phlegm Head hot sticky like a child’s fingers jabbing my brain Body encased in a sea of blankets Distant radio buzz Weight drowning and anchoring me Diving deeper into my humid cave Eyelids falling shut My parents — both together then — piled together on the couch,…
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