As her aging groom snores, she imaginesgo-spurs-go-1

she is seventeen. An art gallery

opens. Boots unlaced. Lips painted

black. She closes her eyes, but all she hears

is the hum of her brain’s stubborn engine.

A rusted socket. Lately, she has to shuffle

the words around in her head before she

speaks. A deck of sticky playing cards.

She decides her body betrayed her. That her

reflection now hangs thick, like old honey.

After the grey strands of hair stopped paying

rent. Started conspiring with the skin under

her neck. After the five children crawled out of her.

Their greedy fists. They’re wailing shrill, like axes.

 

 

chelsea coreenChelsea Coreen is a full-time sparkle enthusiast. She was a member of the SUNY Oneonta poetry slam team and competed at the national College Union Poetry Slam Invitational for three consecutive years. She has been published in Art and Scope as well as Selfies in Ink, and recently released her first chapbook Glitter Bomb in March of 2014. Follow her on Twitter @chelseacoreen

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