i sense myself sinking into it.
we’re in a shop, picking out clothes.
my mother is laughing at the cheap trinkets.
what do you think?
i am clean and cold. The music coming from the ceiling is heavily autotuned. my mouth feels so small. i can’t open it.
my mother’s eyes are too bright. mine are unfocused and empty. she’s waiting for me. i nod and twitch my lips.
she leans in and whispers, “we’re going home soon”.
Lucy Doherty is a 17-year-old girl living in South-Central Wisconsin who tentatively calls herself a poet. Poetry makes her feel like she’s filled with electricity. She enjoys comedy, singing, and candy. You can find her other work and her social media at lucypoetry.carrd.co.
unpublishable 