Teenagers

We lie in bed  with our arms around ourselves, 

cradling the mangled bodies of children

 who had the stars squeezed out of their eyes so that, still shining, they fell 

down our faces and got stuck there in the shapes 

of tears and little hairs and pimples.

 

For a while, 

if we shut our eyes tight, our bodies aren't so stretched 

and overgrown,

and there's a little more time to play before sunset.

wph

VT

16 years old

More by wph

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    Midwestern Night

    Midwestern night.

    There’s something out in the fields,

    Something banging on the roof.


     

    Fresh vomit in the toilet.

    The sink is running, so you can’t

    Hear your own heavy breathing.


     

  • Poetry

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    Pliocene Morning

    There was a collapsed star.

    There was light at the very end of a cave.

    There was lightning that struck a tree.

    There was a baby born

    With a slightly bigger skull, one day.

     

  • Poetry

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    Final Bow of the Puppets

    The humans are out there taking their bows in the light where the world can see.

     

    We are piled up, 

    cold and immobile on the floor as the green room light fills