by Katy Scarlett
To die that way:
Pink plastic makeup kit
Witch hazel, acne
Tiny pink and yellow
flowers on cotton
Her eye, almost ripped
from its socket
her best friend
necklace
her ribcage
her evil, her inner
the air, it wants
to kill us
a branch, or branches.
freezing is the best
fast and warm
keychains, lunch
yes, I’ve slept with
her boyfriend,
barrettes, scattered,
and my breasts, still new.
shoelace to sneaker
my best friend
bleeds, I’m sorry
it’s hard to be
a girl,
trash, inhale
cake and sleep
my body,
They say
way to go,
like falling asleep.
Katy Scarlett is an educator, poet, and essayist from New Jersey. She earned her MFA in creative writing from Virginia Commonwealth University and her MA in art history from Hunter College, CUNY. Her writing is published or forthcoming in Hunger Mountain, Cimarron Review, Blackbird, Sweet, CRAFT, and elsewhere.