Contributor: Amanda Clarkin

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Heavy with the weight of skin cells,
feet and toes,
bones and blood.

Heavy with the weight of angst,
broken pieces of emotional waste
fall through cracks in veins
and steamroll straight to the heart.

Light with the feeling of a blasé attitude,
beer bubbles rolling down your throat
disinterest crawling over your brain
with the delicate touch of a spider’s legs.

Light with the feeling of impervious solitude,
because the stench of other humans
burns your nostrils-
the feeling of other’s skin torches your flesh.


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I am an aspiring writer who writes as an escape and hopes that someone will hear me. A poem is raw and meaty. It is made of blood, bones, and guts just like me and I think that's beautiful.