how a day feels wrong upon waking

I am so privileged to be a poetry major at UNC. I am working on cultivating vulnerability within myself, writing through trauma, maybe even finding beauty in it, and raging against the rude critic in ... [+]

Image of Long Story Short Award - 2022
Image of Poetry
a sparrow whistles
as the air thickens
and twists itself
into tiny whirlwinds

bits of gutter grass
turn into tumbleweeds
that catch on the postbox
across the street

my heart quickens
with storm beats, pounding
closer, as thick clouds
stick in my throat

the sky breaks first
from its brooding,
sobbing, falling
into thick, wet pieces

I singe fingertips
on the side of a skillet
and consider falling but
a burn is not a breaking point.