by Sarah Valeika
what an artist is this girl,
and saw her girl with the midnight curls and
pallid glow and desiccated lips‐‐
Magritte tossed her folded laundry onto the bed and
slid no concern between the paint‐stained and
the starchy linens and opioid imprints laced in blood like
Postpartum depression and U.S. isolationism were
17 was never so squalid as Magritte’s‐‐
and the birth pill didn’t penetrate history class.
a 4.0 and no art
But the girl?
She was pallid and ruinous and
the sort of devastation that comes on a pair of scissors beneath a foot‐‐
and they never intend to penetrate,
but do, and gouge
Author Bio: Sarah Valeika is a high school sophomore who has had her work published in Menagerie, Teen Ink and The Noisy Island. She draws inspiration from her musical experience in an orchestra and her theatrical studies.