“In my mind I see fingers grasping at a fabric caught in the wind. With each attempt to take hold, the fabric is nearly lost.”

it’s like
the time i dropped a thermometer on laminate tile and watched
as the thing shattered into glass shards and mercury beads. i
learned of quicksilver from sweeping up the silvery liquid and
my curiosity.

with all nine lives still intact, life became a game
of bong hits and night trips and dirty quips and
tally marks etched on the backs of other boys. one
long lesson of snakes and ladders with chance as the

a day after sweeping, my foot caught on to a shimmer of
glass, which looked a bit like the mercury. i flicked
it off, quietly hoping the poison avoided my bloodstream.


Published by

c.v. grace

here lies my veins, tangled and suffocating.

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