Elle Jo (19)
an over-exaggerated metaphor about the pain of healing
Second-Place Winner in the Ribs Contest
i can feel the scars etched into my bones and they’re counting something i’m not aware of yet. maybe
the number of times they stuck out like the joints on wings of a bird too small to fly.
i don’t know why i can’t stop thinking about birds too small to fly.
maybe because they make their home of branches too sickly to bloom.
maybe because the bark is peeling and the sap is rotting and that which was once holy is now dust.
maybe because adam plucked his rib and then plucked his fruit from her hands.
maybe because this is humanity’s greatest sin.
maybe because i’m a bird too small to fly and i can still feel the juice of the fruit of the tree that never should have been there in the first place.
maybe because i can still feel the juice dripping down my chin like honey
maybe because i can still feel the juice dripping down my chin like blood
and it stings
and it is making a home of my skin like it belongs here instead of me
like this skin is not mine anymore
like this body is not mine anymore
like i am not mine anymore.
these bones are all i can see and i wonder if adam and eve couldn’t bear their reflections
in the mirror of still rivers or if they still search tongues
search skin stretched thin
for something that doesn’t exist anymore.
Elle is currently an English major studying in Nashville, Tennessee. Her passion for writing has shaped her life and the way she views the world.
an over-exaggerated metaphor about the pain of healing
Second-Place Winner in the Ribs Contest
i can feel the scars etched into my bones and they’re counting something i’m not aware of yet. maybe
the number of times they stuck out like the joints on wings of a bird too small to fly.
i don’t know why i can’t stop thinking about birds too small to fly.
maybe because they make their home of branches too sickly to bloom.
maybe because the bark is peeling and the sap is rotting and that which was once holy is now dust.
maybe because adam plucked his rib and then plucked his fruit from her hands.
maybe because this is humanity’s greatest sin.
maybe because i’m a bird too small to fly and i can still feel the juice of the fruit of the tree that never should have been there in the first place.
maybe because i can still feel the juice dripping down my chin like honey
maybe because i can still feel the juice dripping down my chin like blood
and it stings
and it is making a home of my skin like it belongs here instead of me
like this skin is not mine anymore
like this body is not mine anymore
like i am not mine anymore.
these bones are all i can see and i wonder if adam and eve couldn’t bear their reflections
in the mirror of still rivers or if they still search tongues
search skin stretched thin
for something that doesn’t exist anymore.
Elle is currently an English major studying in Nashville, Tennessee. Her passion for writing has shaped her life and the way she views the world.
