PC: Lexi Jude
I would like to rip my skull open,
scoop out my pathetic, overworked brain;
squeeze it until it oozes between
my fingers like an over-ripe banana.
I’d smear it all over the walls and ceiling,
and yell at it for being broken.
I would like to scream at it until
my throat burns raw, my lungs aching and empty
working to shriek, but producing silence.
My body would shake but my lips won’t quiver.
I’d shout until bile bubbles and threatens
to overflow, and then I’d shout some more.
I would like to peel the freckled skin from my face,
dig into the doughy flesh and rip. Start
at the hairline and work downwards. Feeling
the layers tear from the bone, gleaming
white exposed to the harsh fluorescent lighting.
My naked skeleton sighing in relief.
About The Author - Hannah Buckley
Hannah Buckley, a graduate of Westfield State University, just recently made the transition from strictly prose writing, to poetry. She quickly fell in love with the endless possibilities poetry allows and loves playing with form and the way the words look on the page. She spends most of her time in the woods with her dog.