(Eve) This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

Custom User Avatar
More by this author

When Papa told me to fix this
(broken window)
before the glass cuts me, I replied,
“there are loves that kill.”

He watches me watch the cracks
and knows that I am

thinking of you

again, I dirty my hands in your garden soil against his wishes.

O fruit! another injection from your tree,
and I stumble beneath thee (and thy) kisses.

Blood seeps, unknown, a stranger on my skin.
You know what they say about women
who don’t belong anywhere they’ve
been.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback