a poetic prose
when i asked my being to break so that i could bare its butchered body to the world, it cried for years. i can still hear its echo fondly on the dank breeze of every nippy winter night. the type of nights that are fat with a certain kind of musk — only to southern girls raised on cycled trauma can recognize. i did not mean for this body to decay the way it did. i had planned to put the pieces of me back together — to make myself into a dish that even i could not refuse devouring. it’s just this womanhood got too big for me to bear. i watched my girlhood decay within the gaps of my fingers. but what was to be expected, being that this woman-body was pulled from a girl who kept bread in her mouth to feed herself later?
i want to express my heartfelt gratitude to you for taking the time to read my work. it really means the world to me. feel free to clap, comment, and/or highlight; your support is genuinely valued on my end. if you are curious on how to and/or willing to further support me, you can buy me a pen. i also value good ol’ fashion word of mouth, so please feel free to share my piece and consider exploring this blog…
