dig deep
what pretty teeth pretty claws
to dismantle you and eat you up
what big eyes
to watch and calculate and trap
what long-fingered hands calloused palms
to find your seams
tear you apart, rend your skin
get at your lungs throat heart
paint you in your own colors
blueblack redblack
mark you as mine and not-yours
let you stretch, crack joints
roll your neck in the bracket of my hands
let you feel some semblance
of control of youth
before fear panic acceptance
sets hooks into your insides
pull push pull
let you spill out and become whole
become better
teeth claws eyes hands
the dark beneath the bed
the creak upstairs
the bang down
what the closet door hides
you want me to cry
want to call me sugar sweetheart
darling
when you are spread out, begging
sobbing arching for some-any
thing, when you get not what you want
but what you need deserve
you will be crying, and i will say
“darling oh darling
. . . . . . . . all the better”
mimetic
spend time with another, close close
drawing from them
bleeding humanity how to act
behave, learned emotions
let your skin sink into mine
beautiful because I am Other
you can’t pinpoint it
it’s subtle
I’ve studied how to blink
wink breathe be scared or happy or
how to slide my hands through your hair
over your skin, how to playact at
girl normal average
how to smile with less teeth
scratch with less claws
nip instead of devour
you still sense it
the danger, the coiled hunger
moving beneath my skin
but I bat my eyes or smile (bare
my teeth) or lean in, and you
forget
danger draws everyone in, and I keep you
I’ll bury you like a dog with a bone
I’ll slough this skin like a rattlesnake, and I’ll
come back to dig you up again and again
solstice
late the year lies, bundled
swaddled in age ;
as
as
an old dog, off alone to
end, to meet the year
and another not
the sun sets earlier
until there is no light no
day just night
and the crisp white moon
like
like
a starched sheet drying on
the clothesline
swept to the sky
it watches lies in
wait for the page turn
an omnipresent ring around, holding
its glory
the ever-night cold and colder
still, spider patterns on windows
trees breaking under silver weight
her hands ice where yours meet
where you grasp and
shatter, lose touch
flint eyes freezing burn
near
near
frostbite, frigid water that closes over
you, swallowing your mind
bodysoul
the year lies, waiting waiting for
your mistake, last hurrah, last
oath, your accidental
sacrifice so, cold, she thrives for
another year, another life
watches your breath with the months
steam dying in the dark air
brings you to the shore
let’s you float, let’s you
go under
Lauren Patterson is an unpublished first year graduate student earning her MFA in Screenwriting from DePaul University. She intends to be in LA within another year, and sometime after that having scripts or series optioned. Her focus, predominately, is in science fiction and/or horror, and she has a healthy appreciation for “bad” films (think: robots, explosions, monsters, car chases, et cetera). She has an impressive knowledge of film history and theory, a slightly less impressive knowledge of the horror genre in both film and literature. Free verse poetry is an outlet, a way to get the mess of her head organized so she can get back to business. Lauren prefers tea, overcast days, and the dark under your bed.
–Art by Marina Ćorić
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