Then & In Torn Skies

A repressed screech
by Sarah Edwards

I was aware when I was 11, but no one else saw the heavy palm, tightening the noose around my aging shawl. It was a withered maroon in color & I lived in a room.

I was a girl then & I pretended to run outside my body in every dream, every night.

I only realized the blood in my reflection when the claws of some artificial blindness unhooked my training bra, digging & hissing with an easy slurp. The uneven dusk at the corner of my eyes would immerse in a losing battle with a mouthful of limbs, laid bare by unfriendly crows.

Cupping my unbloomed crescent, as if I couldn’t taste the salt of my own nostrils.

I drowned & I spit inside my mouth, stitched with cloned threads before the 12th year could sprout in agony.

I was the wrong carved in ice & my fingers still burned.

Before the night’s end, the slight crack in the floor that shadowed gentle footsteps, never dared to wrap my two hands in the flesh of silk worms.

I would fall asleep & the lines from your favorite TV show filled the attic with accepted memories.

Human angels are stupid, a figment of nicotine laden scabs, despite that, I take a willing breath & I am still a girl. Then & in torn skies.

—————

Bio: Sarah Edwards is a writer and/or a poet. Her work is experimental and based on some truths and inner heart. Her tumblr: http://sarahscribbled.tumblr.com/

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Published by

hrholt1986

I am a dreamer, as well as a doer, who lives in the North Georgia mountains. I started my publishing journey August of 2013, have had moderate success, but my utmost passion is my "daytime" job, which is working with adults who are constantly striving to better their lives as they obtain the GED credential.

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