Where My Pillow Goes
They
found a crater in the side of my head
where my
pillow goes.
I took
off my shoes and let myself cry.
You hung
up my coat and rang out my eyes.
I blew
my nose into the rug
and spat
in the sink.
My chest
turned waterlogged and burst in my hands.
You gave
me a rag and cleaned out the mess.
I tried
to eat something, but dirt fell out
when I
opened my mouth.
My skin
started to hurt and there’s chalk in my throat.
“I don’t
think I feel well.”
You put
the ice back on my burnt cheeks
hid your
face and lied, “you will soon.”
“But I
think you should go to bed.”
My eyes
knew what that meant.
Crystal Stone
Crystal Stone is a Masters student
at the University of Alabama. Her academic writing has been published in
the Capstone Journal of Law and Public Policy as well as El
Clasifcado's SSDN and XV Magazines.
Tags:
Poetry
An excellent work
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