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.