South

Briana Wilson

Silence blankets the city

as much as I have ever seen—ice

clouds the asphalt, school said

don’t try to make it today, so I’m

Home with my sister and mom is off to work—

but my street isn’t so quiet today when there is a

knock on the slammer.

   tap, tap, tap

turns to boots and bangs and blows

and the wood is cracking and splitting; it just won’t give.

what’s your emergency?

i’m playing a game of catch up with the

past, and he’s here with a vengeance towards her

daughters. and she’s not even home!

now don’t knock on the door

just let me know when you get here,

so my limbs don’t give like an

   earthquake

and I can maintain some kind of sanity

and the very thing that keeps me alive

doesn’t stop

   beating.