Silver slash of light like heaven
carve the exit that I’ve dreamt of
etch until my neck
blurts red
past your silver light to soar
me but I just drop instead
like lead thoughts thunk did I not
spit the right red prayers to lift
me up my mouth forgets now
drops words this body can’t read
can’t breathe or care where thinking
is thunk and hair hisses fix
me but open neck rejects
my head and heads for which home
is unknown because only
not being is free dumb no
more I see no silver but
hear these words thunk my last thought
was flawed was wandering and
wondering why others who
tried to reach me froze but he
could never have been my stone
About the Poet
Raegen Pietrucha writes, edits, and consults creatively and professionally. Her chapbook, An Animal I Can’t Name, won the 2015 Two of Cups Press competition; her debut collection, Head of a Gorgon, is forthcoming with Vegetarian Alcoholic Press in 2022. Connect with her at raegenmp.wordpress.com and on Twitter @freeradicalrp.
For the first time in nearly five years, Vita Brevis is closed for submission. Read the full story here.
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