Poems & Essays

13 Jul

Ectopic

General/Column No Response

it was not heavy
(no lead dropped in my stomach)
it was not drowning
(no water crashed through the levees)
it was not numbing
(no needle offered even the weakest anesthetic)

it was sharp
(a window breaking inside me)
it was a hand reaching through the shattered pieces
(ripping the wooden window frame from the wall)

it was goodbye whispered into darkness
just before dawn
followed only by silence

 

 

Amber Weyland teaches high school English in New Orleans, Louisiana. She is an MFA candidate in Writing at Lindenwood University, and she holds both a Master’s and a Bachelor’s in English. Aside from a list of college publications, she has recently been published in Rkvry Quarterly Literary Journal and Belle Rêve Literary Journal.

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