in steel country, in coal country
daddy drove a truck and mama prayed
good girls laid on our backs; we crushed our wings
we let the machete of a slick man’s voice
clear cut the thicket of our wombs
we let the wet slick cries of a hungry thing
slowly drain the fire from our marrow
when we’re in the throes we’re yes girls

hitched up counter height now in a fuck me skirt
whispering god’s plan to silence the tempest
metastasizing in my barbie doll heart
how many hail marys before the grunting stops
oil stained fingers circling where the wings used to be
whiskey breath the dirge of hollow childhood dreams
blood blooming down my thighs – bruises are the new black
when we’re in the throes we’re yes girls

© 2019 Mela Blust

Mela Blust is a moonchild, and has always had an affinity for the darkness. She has been writing poetry since she was a child.

Her work has appeared in The Bitter Oleander, Isacoustic, Rust+Moth, Califragile, and others, and is forthcoming in many more. Her debut poetry collection, Skeleton Parade, is forthcoming with Apep Publications in 2019.

She is the social media coordinator for Animal Heart Press, a contributing editor for Barren Magazine, and a poetry reader for The Rise Up Review.