i pay attention to the sky because it loves me
BY CASSIDY BLACK.
i cry for my father. i listen to the jolts and drag
home. i was a child who could have died
hooked up to machines. a young girl with weakheart
sweating out fevers, into a shoebox. growing into a woman
wanting to be your daydream valentine made new
while tracing old habits, running my tongue
over the world. i can’t take the highway
because it scares my mother. i hug my therapist
when she says she’s proud of the way i witness
accidents of the body. to say i wake up
and keep living, keep swimming
through dark waters coming out gleaming.
Cassidy Black is a nineteen y/o small-town poet, libra sun, and postcard collector who has lived in the same yellow house her entire life. Her work has previously been published in The Rising Phoenix Review and Ghost City Review. You can keep up with her on Instagram @cassidy.cheyenne.