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Zoe Walsh Oct 2018
a blood red rose blooms through my gut

as hands from everywhere tear at my skin

sensation falls like petals of a wilted flower from my body.

i feel everything and then not much at all.

i cannot see the garden around me

or smell the floral perfume

or touch the soft petals

i only hear the ominous buzzing of angry bees

paralyzing me with anticipation
Zoe Walsh Sep 2018
i've always been angry
it has been a burning in my bones
an acid in my stomach
a restless warrior in my head.
some may say
i came into this world
looking for a fight.
but i'd argue that when i was born
the fight found me.
it was passed down
from generations of women
with hands branded into their bodies
and tongues cut out of their bloodied mouths.
i yearn for rest
but their stories push me back into the ring.
there is work to be done
fights to be won
Zoe Walsh Sep 2018
nothing is wrong
but something doesn’t feel right
i am an actress in a play who has tears in her eyes
because the script changed and
now she doesn’t know her lines.
the spotlight burns on my skin
i know this is a defining moment
the universe has its eyes on me
but all I can do is speak echoes of what I rehearsed
Uncertainty and Anxiety press against my chest
as if trying to break through my ribcage
and crush my heart
i want to leave the stage
quit the play
burn the script
but I love my role too much
and I want those flowers when the curtain falls

— The End —