After Manic Aftermath
Sarah Grace Goolden
and sometimes i’m soft, soft, soft
my mother pouring cream into dad’s black coffee
i keep the ribbons from birthday presents to wrap my hair up
but it’s too short because i keep cutting it
i cut my hair with my mother’s kitchen knife
and then i press it against
my soft, soft, soft
cream in coffee
white skin
and when i’m soft, soft, soft
i sit on the sidewalk and stare at the sky
until the sun starts bleeding into the horizon
and the horizon starts bleeding into the trees
and i am bleeding into the concrete
cream in coffee
white skin on the concrete
and all my dad notices
are the stains
I leave behind
soft is starting to hurt
hurt in the back of my throat
i can’t stop bleeding
into the concrete
cream in coffee
white skin on the concrete
too much cream in coffee white skin
too much soft and
too much blood
they tell me i look like
my mother
Sarah Grace is a English/Education major and editor for The Carolinian. She hopes you enjoy her words.