Ophelia Monet

Jagged Points

when you died
I screamed fire
from my mouth
for years
until my throat
was     raw/
I absorbed hornets
and daggers so I
would become
     jagged/
blood coats my hands
and my face
    and my     heart/
the same blood
that ran through
our veins/
wallpaper lines
this hallway, a
tunnel that is
jagged, sharp
       like me
like these     bones
this   tongue/
it slices through
fake paint
      such deceit/
I consume the
scraps that once
made up what
felt like
         home/
you lie asleep
in a fitted room
under the
    earth

Ophelia Monet is an educator, mother, and storm chaser, living in Kentucky with her husband and their son. Her work is forthcoming in Free Verse Revolution, Unleash Lit, Loud Coffee Press, Heimat Review, The Orchards Poetry Journal, and more.