a wicked cycle, an indignant return. the very same stars in the sky that traced the lone path i walked some time ago has returned. the storm's fire has long been gone, but the freezing cold that took over its absence stubbornly lingers; there is a certain longing, an aching that's present. its edge is dull but still potent, and this heart of mine aims to hurt again. i did not know that time would lead me back to this. like a serpent, fated to swallow its own tail, i am a monster—unshackled from melancholia—come back home.
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I, Girl
Poetryi am my own god, my own spirit, my own prayer. -- a complete series of 44 poems concerning girlhood, dread, and catholic guilt.
