What We Hold
Girl, you’ve been selling your soul,
but have lost sight of the worth.
A dime bag
is not a rose offered
by trembling hands.
A quick bump
is not poetry scribbled over your skin
by nervous fingertips.
A shot of smack
is not a vow of devotion
whispered by love-chapped lips.
You’ve forgotten all the things
you were holding out for.
And now,
you have nothing left to hold.
What Happens to Girls
“Boys will be boys.”
But,
what happens to the girls?
We’re left behind –
tangled in dirty sheets and half
of our clothes,
or lying in the park with three-quarters
of our clothes shredded,
or in the morgue without
any clothes at all.
We’re left to pick up pieces
that should have never been broken
in the first place.
We’re left to our dirty reflections
try as we might
to avoid them.
We’re left to our insides,
now tainted and foreign.
We’re left to the sharp scent
of our ever-present fear.
Boys will be boys.
And girls?
Girls will be hurt.
This is Love
This is the painful plucking up
of my well-tended
(and high-walled) garden.
This is the burning of those
most precious petals I planted
with such care.
This is the sewing of seeds
in soil tainted with the ashes
of what was.
This is love,
even when it feels
anything but lovely.
River Stones
Once, I was caught
in your current.
But, the tides have changed.
Now I am the raging river,
and you
are just the boulders
I break over.
I Don’t Need Saving
You may see me as a damsel
in distress
and you may be right.
But as far as saving goes…
These two hands
dug this hole
and
these two hands will
Drag me out.
The Phoenix
Although you’ve torn her up and
burned the pieces,
she will always be a phoenix –
born to emerge from the ashes.
Too Much Will Never Be Enough
I’ve thrown caution to the wind,
and watched my inhibitions float
away on the breeze.
No longer do I second (and third)
guess myself. Instead, I throw all my chips
on the table
every single time.
I refuse to “dial it back”
because I am too much.
I hope to always be too much.
I hope to always be
much more
than anyone ever expected.
Author: JessicaRose Hutchins
Email: [email protected]
Author Bio: Just your average 27 year old, trying to cure my wanderlust by moving from city to city, and capturing my experiences in verse. I find inspiration in all things, from seemingly insubstantial encounters to my most painful moments. When I began writing, it was to purge myself of all the thoughts and feelings I could never speak aloud; and now, I write to reach others who have felt silenced by their fear (of the world, of themselves, of failure, etc.). Writing has liberated me from that fear, and I hope that sharing my poetry can help others to liberate themselves.
Link to social media or website: Instagram @lady_jrose
