My Insides Are My Own
Two lines of pink wrap around my throat and yank until my face turns blue— just kill me now. That my insides are twisted and the chalky blue pill I swallowed, with a gulp of limited edition red Gatorade, dissolved before it could burn away the memories like newspaper clippings trapped at the bottom of a bonfire. I lit with rage personified a living stream of embers snuffed out by the spit of old men. Perched on sleek wooden tables, they snip the cords of fate without regard for my insides.
Emma CrowE is a senior at Central Washington University pursuing a degree in Professional and Creative Writing. Her focus is mainly on social-justice poetry and empowering others through her words. Her work can be found in Manastash Student Literary Journal, Beyond Words Literary Magazine, Olit Magazine, and is forthcoming in Central Dissent by New Plains Review. When she’s not working on a new poem or story, Emma enjoys crafting and relaxing in the fresh PNW air.
The Albion Review 