Poetry by Jessa, Collage by Kathryn
for delilah // requeim
my phone flashes; while names
run back and forth
‘delilah? cassandra?’ something
more pedestrian, perhaps
something to go with
your curly hair and broken home
raw bacon is peeled from the pack,
slapped into my jaw – you won’t
leave me alone; not yet
to hear your screeching inside of
me, but yet i feel you
resist every pull
only now i feel my ma and hers
before her cry; only now may i
understand their screams
as textbooks fell away and made
room for no man to carry
any of their burden
i hold you while i sleep, tears salty
scratching into my skin
i dream of june days and indifferent
texts, of you in my arms
screaming at me, an empty
seat by the hospital bed
for other girls, there is reassuring
and hand-holding and smiles
but you and I have
scared silence instead. we must
bubble together, earlobes
and I, cries and all
each meal is thrown up, tears
shed and anguished and yet walking
without him i hear you laugh over
the sun. it’s a chortle
like my own, something,
all i can keep of you
Jessa is an eighteen-year old Londoner and sleeping academic. When she isn’t stress-eating, she’s writing plays and making indirect spotify playlists. She has written for the National Theatre and her Twitter and instagram is @cynicaljessa.
Kathryn is a film and writing student in Minnesota who loves Kanye West but doesn’t trust him. She also edits Pop Culture Puke. Learn more about her here, here, and here.