by Spencer Wollan
Saint of the internal rebellion /
Witch of the southern state.
I scratched at the exit
of my mothers womb until she bled out
and they had to start digging.
Oh god, and now?
I’ve been such a burden on my heart.
Been vibrating since the moment
I noticed that she somehow survived it.
Found her floating above the blasphemy
begging to be fed by hand
or given a tiny bag of sweets
or granted asylum into the country
of whatever never shatters /
into the landscape of whatever
is the opposite of having to try
and instead i just said,
Call me tomorrow morning.
Today is tomorrow’s slave
and we can’t live here forever.
The heart is never wrong
but a muscle always fails
at some point.
A long time ago, I was very small.
And the smallness still lives here.
Spencer Wollan (she/her) is a lesbian with two cats and a hot wife (read: fiancée). She is a fan of Ocean Vuong, good tequila, and you. Follow her on Instagram @therapyluvr666.