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.