French Toast

Feeling very frail when
Tess said she fucked him to Shabba with her shirt and socks still on
I pulled my necklace of the Virgin Mary before I even knew where my hands were
my friends are all bleeding out of their pores and shrinking with sunken eyes and boney knuckles I am

Feeling very Meursault in the sun on a hot day
& knowing I should drop my gun I could exit stage left right out of this
you said ‘don’t freak out we are all living wrong we are all doing it wrong’ but
lately I’ve been sinking & looking at soil like it owes me more
trying to drink my coffee any way but black because something needs to change

Feeling very Sylvia Plath minutes before sticking her head in the oven—
sitting in the emergency room drinking something burnt and wondering why I keep ending up here feeling inexplicably sad
watching a lonely dad pacing around washing his hands and looking at things for irrationally long amounts of time buying snacks but not eating them
flashing back to days with Max’s bleeding hands laughing like Sylvia Plath never put her head in the oven

About Angela Sabo

Angela Sabo is a freshman at Emmanuel College in Boston. She has been published in two TeenInk literary magazines and one TeenInk poetry anthology.

Post Navigation