Today we have a poem from a first time contributor to any literary magazine, Matthew Amos, about someone who is not at their best.
Shelter
Chris had asked her if he “should stay over”
She told him it upset her that he asked if he “should”
like he was obligated to
She was trying to lie as still as possible
every movement of her body she could feel herself shifting
between her legs
it made her shudder uncontrollably
she wanted
to vomit out her organs
to heave and heave
until all of her insides came out
She felt tainted,
inside and out,
like a glass of water invaded by a few drops of black dye
the darkness twisting and spreading throughout her
its long fingers stretching to tickle her in a torturous sensuality
She sat up straight
kicked off her covers then curled her head into her knees
and wrapped her arms around her legs
She wanted to do something
anything but lie there in her bed, helpless
Sarah thought about turning on the tv, but didn’t
She grabbed her jeans out of their crumpled heap on the foot of her bed
covering her legs sheltered them for a second
