By Grace Jackson
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If ever there was a choice to let feelings leave,
I’d take the risk and sign in blood.
Sign it away: the bubbling thoughts, the prayers,
The wish I can’t quite remember from when I was
small
I grasped onto that fire so deeply, the embers
charring my little fingertips,
And now, only a trace remains.
A thin tendril of smoke, following my steps as if
my fingerprints endured.
Even now, I wear a brand,
A name, carved upon my skin with the dagger of
your spite.
Starving youth begs for any amount of love,
And it appears I was no different.
Every night, I whispered, sang a new song for your
praise
In hopes for another scrapーthe crust off your bread
Or a wilted grape.
I will always fall at your feet,
No matter the grotesque pet I seem
I signed away my life when I met you,
And no other contract bears the same seal.
About the Author
Grace Jackson is a first-year at ICC and is
starting her journey to become a recognized artist. She uses her art and
writing as a way to express what she cannot through simple words. Outside of
school, she spends most of her time analyzing creative works and finding joy in
character creation and world development and hopes to someday take part in
designing something great.