There’s glass in my shoe,
Padding around gingerly, each step brings water to my eyes
I bite my lip to staunch the flow of water, and
my mouth fills with blood
Dirty pennies smelted with spit,
To coat my tongue and teeth
Running down my chin pulsing and hot
I attempt to stem the flow from
drenching pants, shirt, arms, and face.
Get this blood off my hands,
I wring them together,
bone on bone, splintering beneath the flesh,
protruding and embedding into my skin further and further until my left cannot be
distinguished from the right.
blending together, and I stand in the streetlight,
Crying out for a saviour.
God, hear my muted screams.
The whispers fade to my tibia and quake in my liver,
the loneliness grips my broken body, I fall silent,
The silence engulfs me.
Sand and water wash over me,
constantly lapping at the broken pieces of a girl,
ebbing and polishing my bones to make them glow like sea glass,
the jaded edges soften, and the brilliance fades.
Sadie Gilker
Sadie Gilker is an interdisciplinary artist who works with words and textiles. Focused on sustainability and the reusability of items, they try to repurpose as much as they can find.