they said
carve out the pieces of you
that don't fit the world
offer them up to the gods
for a blessing
(no, a curse)
(no, a snack)
that honeysweet poison
that flows through your blood
meandering stickily down their jowls as they feast
i say let the world carve itself
and make a space shaped just for me
let it stretch itself thin to the boundaries
to fit me in
let the gods die
ambrosia nectar
spilling from their wrists
split open by the words of the unbelieving
let me remain whole
Misty Layne is a writer from Alabama and New Jersey. She has previously self-published a book of poetry and written film reviews for several sites including Rogue Cinema and her personal site, CinemaSchminema.