Teen Poetry – Phoebe – Untitled

Who am I working against? This big bedsheet
curls beneath my fingers and blossoms like the nodes of summer lightning
rattling the front window door pane.
Who am I trying to prove?

Prick and stitch, prick and stitch, any minute
her cold grey eyes will open again and smell
wet roses reaching out

I keep my teeth between my fingers, tuck in my stays,
for a hard night’s rest, and watch
the little dew-dripping patterns of fern on cotton.

–Phoebe, Greenwood, Teen Blogger

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