Poetry

Call It What It Is

at fifteen the intake nurse clacked her nails until / social phobia, ED-NOS appeared beside diagnosis

Goldfish

Living is like a turtle shell growing around a plastic bag

spring

in an ancestral language i never learnt

Doctor Storm

I am here because I can’t sleep when it’s dark, / maybe in an hour I will be tired.

Exposition

I survived a knife between my ribs, / strings cutting into sponge-berry flesh, / blooming rose wound around my wrists.

Eco Punk

Hearing about another extinct species, I do a line of hope

to the ends of the earth

i will take your hand. / smooth my thumb over the callouses / liver-spotted, amber nails cracked from worried teeth