Grief is a wild beast
galloping in my chest,
howling at the moon,
indifferent to my pleads,
stampeding in an open prairie
without direction or resolution.
I do not claim when I am finished with this feral thing;
it decides when it is done with me.
YOU ARE READING
The Eldest Daughter ✔️
PoetryA collection of poems I wrote ages 13 to 31 that show how I grapple with neurodivergence, gender roles, and the conservative fundamentalist environment I was raised in. This is the most vulnerable work I have released to date, letting you into intim...
