Individual by Keana Labra

I.
I’m fixated on levels,
my stomach curls at the memory
of being flattened,
floored by the size of you.

II.
I need things to be a certain way
for a bat of an eyelash can mimic that
of a gun shot and I am back,
bloody and alone.

III.
The “good” leaves a trail
wispy smoke, tracing its way into my innards
enveloping me from
the excess of bad decisions.

IV.
When I was eighteen,
I killed a cat, impact—body—car
its last moments are scarred beneath
my eyelids.

V.
Time is a drug of suppression,
to which my mind is immune
permeating through the everyday
I pray that these memories dim.

(I betray myself in these moments.)

VI.
As the years trudge along,
dragging me by my heels
but they return, flash fire,
coming and going as they please.

1 thought on “Individual by Keana Labra”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s