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My Body Is A Haunted House 
by Amanda Crum 

 

My tongue is a bruised peach

longing for the dirt it came from

that old language from the holler

living beneath tissue and muscle

tamping down its music

deep into the soil

 

My mind is a murder of crows

scattered in every direction

searching for shine in the depths

marking the hours with a watchful eye

always looking for the next

place to land

 

My blood is a brittle orchard in autumn

carefully weighing bones like branches

my veins the vines that keep me tethered

I once counted all the scars

imagined them as ax scores to bark

and wished for an apricot sunset to wash them away

 

My body is a haunted house

on every level a witch

specters roosting in the beams

beating heart pounding a tattoo

filled with sighs and darkness

and waiting to be filled 

 

About Amanda 

Amanda Crum is a writer and artist whose work has appeared in publications such as Barren Magazine and Eastern Iowa Review and in several anthologies, including Beyond The Hill and Two Eyes Open. She is the author of two novels, The Fireman's Daughter and Ghosts Of The Imperial. Her first chapbook of horror-inspired poetry, The Madness In Our Marrow, was shortlisted for a Bram Stoker Award nomination in 2015; her story "A Shimmer In The Parlor" was a finalist for the J.F. Powers Prize in Short Fiction in 2019. She currently lives in Kentucky with her husband and two children.