—may be some time. may be some time in
getting help / moving on / moving forward,
whatever that entails. may be some time
in coming back to this, this hand that feeds.
i’ve been searching for
in this relentless back & forth
that’ll make it all worth it. i
tell my friend i have this thing seeding on my
tongue, only i don’t know how to feed it
& don’t know if i should / if i can. they
say not to feed dangerous things:
they always come back.
(this heart, beast dripping
hunger from a gaping wound
in the hind leg.)
i tell my friend i’m moving furniture about
about in a dark room, which is to say: i’m
grieving without knowing what for, or
knowing / but not wanting to admit.
there’s so much to grieve
over. for instance, my ribs,
waiting to lie down in the
grass. waiting to become.
playground for beetles. feast for crows.
i call this: inevitability. and this, me, here?
a delay / an act of preservation. but, here,
let go of my hand. whatever happens,
happens, and i want to
leave before i forget /
discard the memory of
how to. i may be some
time, but i so want to leave, have to leave.
i’m just going / going out / outside—
By Zara Munro
Zara Munro is an artist and a storyteller, currently studying English literature and history of art at the University of Edinburgh. She is Director of Social Media at Monstering, a magazine for disabled women and nonbinary people, and at Half Mystic, a literary journal about music. She was a recipient of the Scottish Book Trust’s Young Writers Award – a national award for young people aged 13-17 – in 2013 at the age of 15. Her poetry has been published in the Young Writers Award 2013 e-book. Her more recent work has been featured on Monstering’s blog, and in The Dinner Table Review.