Somewhere. Missing. Whereabouts Unknown by Natalie Crick

Snow was falling all around
and because I kept the blood from Halloween
the day was right from the start.

Sky fell down, pink apples bled
and because I was not at school
I felt alone. My camera, my shoes.

The hill was steep with mould and leaves
and blood drips behind:
ink blot.

My camera swings with every step
And my hands are fat and pink with blood.
Still of footsteps. Delete.

The trees are thin, the grass is long.
And because I rush through the reeds
(injured reindeer, mentally ill)

I am screaming
and my keys are gone
and I am all by myself.

Dirty snow. Bad girl.


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Go back to Issue 2

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