Poem feature

Weekly poem feature: Sara Terry

Short and Sour series // By Oscillating

I scorn at my fingers,
crawling like spiders
fiddling over my skin

because it does not feel like home.

Most days I can’t leave bed,
not even with eight legs.
What scares me most

is I am only skin and bone.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *