faith in magic

the storms are bigger than me and my
trail of red lipstick left on the sheets
the blood sweat dead skin starved hair
bright lights undress me slowly
woman left to herself in sacred places of
body pressed tightly
manic smiles painted red
in blue nights fighting through it
today in my skin i have severed the ties
that bind me to things of beauty unfolded
teeth falling through the couch cushions
like loose change hoarded in pants pockets
i confessed there is no faith in magic
without god haunting my dreams
when one girl melts into the other it becomes
a clear opening
mountains of morning and reasons to hide
suffer through the whole world and god
will remember
if i go too far

Cassidy Black (she/her) is a nineteen y/o small-town poet, libra sun, and postcard collector who has lived in the same yellow house her entire life. Her work has been published in Rising Phoenix Press, and she has performed at Poets House, NYC.