This Life
written by: Henna Johansdotter
this life
wasted
like a wreath of flowers
on a coffin
sour grounds
if boiled long enough
makes an earthquake
believe me this war
has nothing to do with
hope
this life
may it comfort girls
with sharp fringes
and sliced thighs
women who danced
on glass
and fell through
this life
waves never reaching shore
shrieks and bulges
a slaughterhouse on fire
should have been theirs
but I cannot say
I’m not glad
it’s mine
Henna Johansdotter
JUNE 2019 AUTHOR OF THE MONTH at Spillwords.com
I'm a novelist and a poet from Finland, interested in surrealism, science fiction and making people around me uncomfortable. I blog on WordPress as HJD writes. Visit me there.
Latest posts by Henna Johansdotter (see all)
- Dogs of Heaven - March 24, 2020
- Papercut - February 21, 2020
- Nebula - September 17, 2019
