All Summer Long
by Skye Preston
all summer i whispered to walls,
flipped my middle to them, back
to the refrigerator, ass to the icemaker.
bit my nails to quivering quick,
reveled in the sticky maroon.
all summer i chewed up my mouth, and
against my will, dried up,
the salt had turned to tar,
the inhibitors had yet to turn my mind,
my coiled intestines remained.
fluvoxamine daydream, one of a kind.
all summer i biked in dog shit,
the owner puckered cherry lips,
like that katy song i loved at five,
he kicked me in my mind,
hit me deep into the sea, dog drowned
for good measures, to make sure.
sticky sea sweat bore arms,
and I swallowed the smoking gun,
phlegm erupting.
all summer i wept that same sea sweat
shriveled, in my sanctuary-like sweaters, severed
threads and purl stitches alike, washed hands
burned the skin off of my bones, betrayed by acid
not my own.
stomach acid crept my throat.
all summer i crawled the boardwalks, coating
the jagged nail bed splinters in ticks, fell off in a
storm,
shattered by lightning, my veins,
watched as the little brown dog
ran home again,
and i followed.
Skye Preston (she/her) is a 15 year old from California. She enjoys writing, music, reading, and hiking. She loves all things poetry and playwriting, and she has been previously published in Issue XII of Ice Lolly Review.