Awarded Silver Key — January 2020 Scholastic Art and Writing Awards
Anger is the paper bloating in the basement,
heaving over stairs, swallowing door frames,
each keyhole leaking tears through silver lashes.
Walls groan with color-leached bodies,
their shivers seeping through the plaster,
their lips pressed hard enough to pull chills.
The sea bends to accommodate,
fusing flesh with fabric until tides lick bone,
turning her waters sour and cold;
waves are left to stain scarlet with indignant love.
Children scoop marrow from their elbows for the taste,
gritting small teeth against sand grains,
weighing tongues heavier with salt than sugar.
Disgusted by the brine-soaked meat of them,
the sea crawls ashore to devour the spoiled young.
She eats until her belly is swollen with tender hearts
and guilt sits thickly in her mouth like a stone —
slick with blood and curdled liver-milk;
another generation raised to dread the biting rush
of a starving mother’s grieving jaw.
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