by Natasha Bredle
Natasha Bredle is perpetually confused. Her musings can be found in Full House Lit, Anti-Heroin Chic, and Trouvaille Review, to name a few.
In the Aftermath I Want to Change My Name
& there’s really no math to it,
just the sticky patches beneath my eyes
where the tears have already turned to fog & juice stains.
i’m new now, i think (which is what
i always think.) this will never happen again
because i’m different. just turn the dial
on felix the inside-out cube & get to your feet.
something subtly drastic. sappho
(do kids still know about her these days?) artemisia
(tell me how you survived) cleo
(the snake is coming i feel it on my wrist)
but the math is adding up now & in
a few hours i’ll be fine (fine.) i’ll forget i ever
had such an egregious thought, like the aftermath
i wanted to fly across the ocean or inhale the moon
to always keep it inside. i’ll forget,
unless of course it clings to my mind
& makes my fingers move erratically (pitterpatter
taptap) until they find home on a keyboard one night