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.