By Adrianna Gordey
i read some of your poems
her critiques were shrikes impaled me
on a thorn savored my self-esteem
with her barbed wire beak dismembered me
one text at a time
i do pray that you let go of things
i rescued a starling after i blocked mom
baby bird gasped butter yellow beak drowned
in ants black as words each shallow breath a triumph
i hope you can find peace within yourself
heating pad nest please washcloth canopy please
a prayer please a command
recycled serum dropper water round as hope please drink
a gulp please don’t die wing flap open beak
asking for more, please
i fear you may have an empty life. you can only fool others for so long
motherless starling where is your mother? pin feathers
like messages in a bottle why are you alone?
did you fall or flee? i shoved myself
from mom’s nest what a mercy to become motherless
i’m truly sorry i never taught you to forgive
the starling survived stubborn resilient species
the same classification shared with eldest daughters
i am not a monster for forgiving myself
Adrianna Gordey (she/her) is a writer based in Kansas. When she isn’t writing, Adrianna can be found daydreaming about the Atlantic ocean and assembling overly ambitious Halloween costumes. Her work has appeared in the Hunger Mountain Review, One Art, Neologism Poetry Journal, and elsewhere.