by Abigail O’Regan

Rip through my chest
Shake my barriers, make my cower.
Whisper in my ears to make me
wander, distract and reduce me

To a quivering, stumbling
Wreck of a girl,
A sweet green girl with
preconceptions and revolving

Fears of sheer dismissal at the
hands of the almighty who rule the
streets I walk with my bowed head,
A mark of respect.

The holes you dig so small yet so
quickly in my ribs gather to a
paralyzing concept of loss at my
own hand, my fault, my flaw.

I would do anything to avoid you
and you know this, as I know this.
I do my best to scare you off. But
You know; I’m the frightened one.

Abigail O’Regan is a nineteen year old writer based in Lisgriffin, Co. Cork. She studies Musical Theatre in Bird College, London. This is her first publication in a poetry journal.

2 thoughts on “Howl

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