Myths

I’m the girl who whispers Fuck you like a curse,

immobilized by indecision,

trepidation

c        a        l        c        i         f       y        i        n        g

The doctor said my bones are brittle

so I drank kerosene and ran all the way home,

hoping the friction of joints twisting and bending

would cause a spark–

I was always fascinated by the phoenix

but scoffed at reincarnation;

religion buried me

mythology set me free.

I cried when I made it home, breathless,

and still in one piece.

I had never been so disappointed to be alive;

I had never felt the world tilt within me,

as if I was spinning slowly on an axis.

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