Creative Writing

I could be venomous

By Abby Karstrand

It is against my nature

To be this angry

Every day I wake up and I want to hurt

Take the cork out of my throat

Grown dry from breathing through my mouth all night

Cotton mouth from smoking the day away

And to scream myself hoarse

And for the people around me to hear my smoker’s voice

Hear how I deserve to sound

And maybe one day all the shit I eat 

Will solidify in my stomach

And kill me

And I hope it happens quick

Because I would rather be dead than look any worse than I already do

I could be venomous

I could express myself

The way artists do

And know myself without reading it first

I could take the justice I’m owed

And scream at the women who called me fat since I was 8

And never step into my father’s house again

I’ll never need to read another book

There will be no more answers to look for

Nothing left to push through my straw-like vocal cords

I’ll kill it all

By age 35

And die a beauty queen

With rotten teeth

And a chest finally relieved of its pressure

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