arthropoda

Poetry by Milena Bee


worrying holes in the mystic night, cracking

my jaw open with the night time

ticking by, towards sweet nothings

and nothing else.


body set upon a threshold that demands

pain for confession

survival hinging on a dependency

unknown. too far

strung out

on topaz lights

unable to see clear into the future

disastrous premonitions become distasteful

and precious in hindsight,

begging for relief upon abyssal sands.


locked up

in the spider’s web, held fast

in the honeycomb, cracked and leaking and sickly sweet to distract

the disease i breed i breathe i

hibernate and pray curse passes through without

taking me with it.

granted clemency,

breeding illness in the pools of stagnation

where water seeps into fresh wounds.

drawing breath uneasy, uneven, a lesser and lesser trifle

of dire circumstances

heaving head over heels,

pitched forward into trembling obscurity

where no one knows your sins.


 

Milena Bee is a chicane poet and artist who lives in Los Angeles with their geriatric tomcat and a number of houseplants. When they're not writing, they're busy weaving, or even busier trying to read one book a week. They are the co-editor in chief of All Guts No Glory.


Image by Christina Marin.


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