Testing Twenty-Twenty-One

Testing post for 2021!
My name is Angel.
This is my 6th full Marathon and I've done one half Marathon.
Tuning in from Pennsylvania. Excited for this challenge!

24! A poem about high school

Red lockers, yellow lockers
The library hallway smells like spaghetti.
Stolen art supplies.
Wasted ink and glue.
The crunching of the guillotine cardboard cutter.
The stairs.
A painted quote above them.
I loved those stairs, I loved those red lockers.
A precious locket of memories in a locked brick building.

You can’t graduate from memories


I can’t promise that I’m not a thunderstorm
but I was the best part of the rain.
The sleep weather.
The gentle roars.
The Friday nights in.
The cool flicker.
The grey.


Every poet is a little closer to
God than a surgeon but
only one of us makes our readers believe
Worship the scalpel or the scale?

He digs out the bullet,
Pumps an empty stomach of pills,
And I wrote the truth
That put them there.


A small departure
for a bigger adventure
The horizon fades

Tiny pockets filled
her choice of stones or liquor
Sink, float, swallow, gasp


I could sift through her mystery
and suck it in to make ash.
She is a poorly patterned couch.
She is the pill bottles, the potential of them.
Rooster alarm clocks.
One sharp tooth.
The fourth leaf on a clover.
Wolf chewing on rawhide.
She gargle in the throat.

She makes herself quite ill.


The ruby flushed her cheeks
painted her lips
and aged her hair.

She was a gold petal,
begging to be a rose.

She was spilled ink
over easy poetry
and she was all the lead
in the gravity that sunk her


You have a pretty set of eyes,
it’s a shame about the rest of you.
Your blessed hips
couldn’t carry a Saint.
You won’t rot any different.


I had beginner’s luck,

All for fun house mirrors
and a little bit of fog.

The separation in 13 parts, 16

1. the announcement

I broadcasted the departure – as you
and you on boats,
ferried away from
our resting place,
your funeral
our bed.

2. the revokation

I limited the exposure I had to the sun – as you,
and you on beaches,
scurried away from
the glances,
my funeral,
your hands.

3. the eviction

Simple. One day.
A remedy, a removal.
Clothes and cleavers stacked into
the back of an unforgettable buggy,
skunked up
in my absence.

4. the rekindle

All stubborn flames try to re-light
in the wrong exposure,
but I smelled another smoke on your breath,
and I choked us out

5. the sizing

I will never fit into a wedding dress – as you,
and you at weddings
danced away
from my eight attempts at an August proposal.


6. the engagement

Now void.

7. both parts of a narcissist

there is the cause and the effect
for every violent word –
my screaming pinned you to the ground,
your ignorance kept me puking.
you were the c a u s e
and I was the abuse.

8. richocet

I got back
every pin head I put under your foot.
coated them with chocolate
and swallowed them for dessert.
I kept you kept;
you hated your keeper,
not every caged animal
bites the feeder.

9. record


10. you said…

“don’t write me as a monster in every poem, I really do love you.”

“You think terrible things about me, and I don’t think I can forgive you for that.”

“I don’t have to listen to you. You aren’t my mother.”

11. i said…

“I won’t. You aren’t a monster, I love you too much.”

“I don’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

12. i thought…

“Stop haunting me. I am living in fear.”

“You did terrible things to me, and I don’t think I can forgive you for that.”

“I wanted to be heard, but who could talk over your anger? I only screamed because your hate was too loud.”


13. the survival

I’ll only say I did. (more…)

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