Search
  • Neon Mariposa Magazine

The morning after by SaraGrace Griffin

I wake up and I am not me.

These are not my wide, wrinkled hands,

These are not my indigo bruises

Grabbed in fistfuls of cellulite

As I contort this spine to see the mirror.


Through stagnant musk

I pad with stranger’s feet

Numbed by the frozen tile.

I should stop wiggling the toes,

I shouldn’t let the pain seep in.


I am fine in this fuzzy uncertainty,

I am conscious enough to recognize

There are memories to elude

Emotions to suppress.


I brush these teeth with 10,000 bristles,

I stare into these gray eyes

As this rabid mouth drips pink toothpaste foam

Plop plop into the porcelain sink.


With trembling lips,

I finally ask God where is my body?

And he says you gave it away.


SaraGrace Griffin is a senior at the University of North Carolina Wilmington, double majoring in Creative Writing and Psychology in an attempt to comprehend their existence. They love traversing their native North Carolina backwoods and baby-talking to all dogs they encounter. Follow them on Twitter @born2blossom

#poetry #issue1 #SaraGraceGriffin

63 views

Recent Posts

See All

Leavetaking by Maria Picone

I can’t just tell you goodbye and walk away, can I? It’s a foggy day with a lot of doubts about what it wants to be. I pick up grocery store roses on my way home. Walking to the car, I realize you’ll

Two Poems by Kat Terban

Resiliency For Gorō Nyūdō Masamune, Zatōichi, and Daigorō There are people whose experiences in life have hammered at them over and over, folding them like steel at the tongs and anvil of a smith so s

North Wind by Dorian J. Sinnott

We washed up on the shores of our own wonder, mysteries of endless deserts and river mouths, making love with the sea. Let me breathe in the North Wind, sailing across the scenery of your soul, like b

©2018 by Neon Mariposa Magazine. Proudly created with Wix.com

This site was designed with the
.com
website builder. Create your website today.
Start Now