Toxicology Report
My anger smells like nail polish and
prescription bottles. A
ratty bible that whimpers fire, my
breath swollen with wounds.
I hope for
silence, but get
poison, screams
traces of words,
slow-motion dark.
A weapon for patient women
hysterical women
spirits broken.
prescription bottles. A
ratty bible that whimpers fire, my
breath swollen with wounds.
I hope for
silence, but get
poison, screams
traces of words,
slow-motion dark.
A weapon for patient women
hysterical women
spirits broken.
This is a found poem.
Source: Flynn, Gillian. Sharp Objects. New York: Broadway Books, 2006. Print.
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Sarah Nichols lives and writes in Connecticut. She is the author of seven chapbooks, including This is Not a Redemption Story (Dancing Girl Press, 2018), Little Sister (Grey Book Press, 2018), and Dreamland for Keeps (Porkbelly Press, 2018.) Her poems and essays have also appeared in Drunk Monkeys, Memoir Mixtapes, and the RS 500.
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