Prose & Poetry

welcome home, starling

you are safe now

bloom

                         so at seven years old / my mother told me the most beautiful thing / that roses are the best thing you can be / and she planted them in me / in my head to be precise / but i never knew why she would have to / i was already growing flowers / and i smelled like her garden / before daddy poisoned it / and killed me / for she had grown me / in every space she could brew me / and let me tell you what it felt like when i was planted / it felt something like this: / full of bloodlust / and cravings for girlhoods that’ll never arrive / so close to senseless touches / and they admire me but pick my petals / quite the form of injuring / yet they stayed further from my thorns / because they know they’d never survive / from what it seems to be / a meadow for the murder and the murderess / i was never ready to be prickled and torned / i was never ready for the death that i longed for / but always and always / daddy comes for me / like he always has / and he prickles my thorns instead / and he tears my petals instead / at last they grew me seeds / a kind of interment / but my sister picks one up / and plants it in daddy’s head / for she’d always been the one to could ever grow / something in him

DADDY’S BLOOM

 

abigail may devhani is a soft-spoken blue-mouthed indonesian who enjoys disarranging words and turning them to art. when she isn't shouting at the searing edge of the world, she's hanging out with her dog or over-looking politics and gay poetry on twitter. she tweets @outress. 
Metal

Metal

Seamlessly Broken.

Seamlessly Broken.