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Mirrors

March, always

By Olivia DodgePublished 2 years ago • 1 min read

3/6/25 3:56pm

how ugly must my roots look HOW UGLY

for you to rip them from FOR YOU TO RIP THEM

me ME

scraping plaster off the walls SCRAPING PLASTER

compare it to paint COMPARE IT

tell me how much prettier TELL ME

blue is BLUE IS

I could plant a garden of delphinium I COULD PLANT A GARDEN

I could build cathedrals I COULD

I could count to one thousand I COULD

I could rip my roots myself I COULD

bite the tip of a pen BITE THE TIP

let ink set in LET INK SET

compare it to a burn COMPARE IT

call for help CALL FOR HELP

tell them it’s my fault TELL THEM

I cannot let go of the plaster I CANNOT

I cannot let go of me I CANNOT LET GO

– ODH

excerptsslam poetrylove poemssurreal poetryperformance poetry

About the Creator

Olivia Dodge

Chicago

ig: l1vyzzzz & lntlmate

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    Written by Olivia Dodge