After the flight
and the humming of tires on the road
as I drive across town
to my studio apartment,

I open the door and drop the baggage
I've been carrying since I was twelve
and too tall and smart
to make friends
who wouldn't gut me when I looked away.

Now the fish swim upstream
flashing silver and gold,
bones and blood still inside,
their bellies untouched

11/04/2011

Posted on 11/04/2011
Copyright © 2026 Meghan Helmich