Contributor: A.J. Huffman
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I rise, each night, inside this body-
shaped coffin. I am my own
dirt, consecrated
in the church of trial
by fire, I am no phoenix,
no mythical insignia of salvation.
I am a scar, a temporary
scab, a coagulated memory
of pain. Discarded, reticent
piece of trash for the bin.
I border nothing,
straddle the line between forgotten
and ignored. I am waste(d). Here,
let me help you, help me, open
the never-quite-fatal vein.
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A.J. Huffman is a poet and freelance writer in Daytona Beach, Florida. She has published six collections of poetry, available on Amazon.com. She has published her work in numerous national and international literary journals. She is currently the editor for Kind of a Hurricane Press literary journals ( www.kindofahurricanepress.com ).
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