Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2020
The holes in my
hands and feet
are tied with string
tied
to wooden shackles
and I walk
gripping the
tetherβ€” drag one hand
then one foot
loose-limbed
all joints and
weak knees
slip-slinking.
I
pull up my head
by threads spun
of fallen hair
dry and flaking
to bob on
this limp neckβ€”
bones but
no filamentβ€”
and though
every limb is
lead-heavy,
I walk on.
elizabeth leone laird
Written by
elizabeth leone laird  26/F/north of nowhere
(26/F/north of nowhere)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems