Gone Girls

I sleep in nothing but a chain

A short, gold chain draped on my neck

It weighs on me, I feel it closing in

Choking me when I am weak


My sister's bones lie beside me

Begging me to stay in bed just a little longer

Her bones are warm like drenched ashes

fading slowly to dark, cold, grey


I let it slide over me, wash over me

The sludge of all of them is rough on my skin 

The grainy mud of the gone girls

My skin is hard from years like this one

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741