no one can really say because no one really saw the girl crying from a distance like between two trees or maybe big bushes or an overgrown hedge plucked from the light source of her mother’s belly before time had begun ticking for her no one can really say because no one really heard the girl screaming from behind her pillow because the pillow was made of wood and nails looks less like a bed than a coffin where she once spent more than a few decades no one really saw because no one really felt the skin of such a slippery little thing they could say words like snails or jelly or vagina but didn’t satisfy her need to be called the drowned pile of nyssa leaves from under her mother’s womb
jacklyn janeksela can be found @ felled limbs, Oddball Magazine, The Nervous Breakdown, Berfrois, Barrelhouse, Uut Poetry, Pig Latin, Thought Catalog, Luna Magazine, & Talking Book. forthcoming in WhiskeyPaper, Reality Hands, Transition, Word For/Word, & DumDum Magazine. she is in a post-punk band called the velblouds. her baby @ femalefilet. more art @ artmugre & a clip. she is an energy.