by Lannie Stabile
I ran away
over steel tracks.
My bad copper luck
flattened
as the whistle sang.
Loose thoughts filled
my pockets & two tight fists
kept them company, as I
walked midnight to nowhere.
There are things I couldn’t leave behind:
the park cedar heart
I worked so hard for that
first fall, latent fingerprints
on scrolls of skin,
glass phrases like bricks
that built this mirror ego.
These are things I couldn’t leave behind.
Lannie Stabile spends a lot of time thinking, a lot of time writing, a lot of time thinking about writing, and a ridiculous amount of time shattering inwardly because she’ll never have enough time to do all the things she truly wants to do. Like think, write, and think about writing. She serves as Managing Editor for Barren Magazine and is a Co-founding Member of MMPR Collective. Follow her online at lanniepenland.weebly.com and @LanniePenland.