Poetry For The Heartbroken

The Lie   She brought me back a lemon from Naples, So I put it in the freezer Without quite knowing why.   When the freezer broke, The lemon grew mould And I couldn’t bring myself to tell her.   Next time we met she looked at me With her citrus eyes, And I saw...

International Women’s Day

Women are gross, scab and bleed when they fall, have had diarrhea in gas station toilets. Come wrapped in lace, lids smattered with some electric pink material stolen from the drugstore sale bin. Packaged in loose blue janitor pants, clunky shoes with enough arch support to make things just bearable. Women are bald, or shedding....

Cherry Stain And Albumen

This project was a way to vent years of fear and anger about menstruating. Age 11, when my period began, I experienced the same detachment from my bleeding body which was now, apparently, a female body, with guilt and shame in every ounce of blood. But I never dwelt on the disparity between the importance...

Dear America

Dear America, My wrists may not bleed with the cuts of chains, But my rambunctious roar for freedom Continues to be muted like elevator music, Songs you bypassed and never cared to play.   My back may not be swollen with a whip Racing across my skin, But my spine is sore with weight you...

Introducing: Roya Backlund

Starting a monthly series of poetry, Roya Backlund explores femininity and nature in a collection of three works.   GIRL  after Megan Falley   Ingredients: A tongue caramelized with longing Spaghetti straps sent home from school, al dente Every time she was told her body did not belong to her, seared into memory Sugar and...

Men Cubed

Men Cubed follows poet Emma Kent’s past relationships: A series of three thoughts on various men who have made up her life, and the impact they have left. * I can see every star that the sky never showed me in the nuances of your body. You are my pastel lover and in the arms...