-
A sliver of glasscutting the meatof my esophagus. I swallow copper —an endingI wasn’t ready for. I reach for you:but you’re a ghostbeyond my fingertips. Instead, I find a little hand in mine.Eyes searching.Begging me to bemorethan I can. I open my mouthto sing a lullaby But I only feed themthe shards.
amateur anniversary contemporary poetry dailyprompt dailyprompt-1970 dailyprompt-1976 dailyprompt-1978 dailyprompt-1980 dailyprompt-1981 dailyprompt-1983 dailyprompt-1986 dailyprompt-1988 dailyprompt-1989 dailyprompt-1991 dailyprompt-1994 dailyprompt-1995 dailyprompt-1996 dailyprompt-2001 dailyprompt-2003 dailyprompt-2013 dailyprompt-2014 death Gaza girlhood grief loss love memories motherhood nature oppressed people Palestine personal poem poetry prose queer rest sappy spring tired war wedding where the Earth holds me series writing
About Me
Tash isn’t a terribly complicated person. They write because it feels like a release, but most of their writing is unrefined and unedited—an honest mess that bleeds onto the page like spilled ink.
Occasionally, you might see glimpses of brilliance and strange beauty among the emotional debris—but more often it’s just stream-of-consciousness musings as they work through the mundane moments of the everyday while the world burns.
Blood in the Bramble 