Your festered mind, saturated with rules
and leaden burdens
shoved against the skull.
A hemorrhage of your heart,
withering as you slouched painfully
in a box of dark oak.
Each vertebra ached
as you stretched
your arms towards heaven.
The holy atrophy of a girl,
the fault of knowing too much.

With clutching fingers, you tore through
the intricate wicker slots of the screen,
ignoring the splinters that ripped
into your bony knuckles, red and raw.
You crawled out of that familiar, sinful place,
tearing pale flesh and paler dress.
A confessional cage, oh-so comfortable
until you did some growing.

Do you wonder how much Lavender knows?
Does she see your sharp knees,
blackened from years of kneeling on plush velvet?
When she holds you, is she scratched
by scrimshawed scripture poking through soft skin?
Her embrace, a sacred autopsy,
bearing false witness
for what is expected of womanhood.
Yet, she still learns nothing
of the blood dripping down your cheeks,
just as oil once flowed from your crown.

Do you wonder
if your soul was condemned
far too long ago?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Em Loney is a writer and poet from Chesterton, Indiana and they are currently attending Ball State University with majors in Creative Writing and Public History. Her work has previously appeared in the 2022 issue of The Broken Plate, as well as the Odyssey Creative Works Journal issue of the same year. They are ecstatic to share their writing with readers.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR