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Amanda

Amanda's skin opens

a red yawn,

empties stuffing,

and bleeds

for the love of her father,

to protest a twenty third birthday,

because God has forgotten her.

 

This girl is no good at dying.

The razor missed.

 

The emergency room is serious

with news magazines,

coughing children,

and the panic of families.

All night the hurt comes.

 

We leave at daybreak,

white gauze strangles

her rip,

and clings to her like a dove

scared of flight.

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Written by
nicolas-huerta
American
Published
Jun 7, 2013
Lines·Words
19·76
Permission

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