SOMEBODY GET ME AN URN ALREADY

Speech bubble never said love

notes never written, never read.

So good at Simon Says: rigged the game

to convince myself it’s better to bet against,

no suspense:

                         blush so big it turned full body.

 

No offense, but, means something bad

is about to happen. Better to let it rest.

Better still to plead no contest.

 

I volunteer to be entombed. Seal the exits

myself, get lost in a windowless room.

Destiny is doom, waits to pounce where

fact meets fate, asphyxiate me, then

blame self-hate:

                                fuck pearly gates.

 

The devil is an about-face.

I don’t believe in saving grace. 

Samantha Madway is working on a collection of interlinked poems and flash fiction. She loves her dogs, Freddie, Charlie, Parker, Greta, and Davey, more than anything else in the universe. Her writing has appeared in SLAB, Sky Island Journal, unstamatic, Flexible Persona, After the Pause, Maudlin House, and elsewhere. She’s technophobic but attempts to be brave by having an Instagram @sometimesnight. If the profile were a plant, it would’ve died long ago.

©2018 HighShelfPress. 

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