Dead. by Alyssa Trivett

My bionic hands
told me to drag
any of 'em damn demons
of the last year
off and away,
of which I cannot control
'cept with a tug o' war playground match
or beat the dead horse
with a dead rug and throw
coffee splotches on it and
let your own blood
boil and live on.

 Alyssa Trivett is a wandering soul from the Midwest. When not working two jobs, she listens to music, chirps down coffee, and scrawls lines on the back of gas station receipts. Her work has appeared recently at In Between Hangovers, The Penwood Review, and Apricity Magazine.