by Meela Smith

I’m cleaning out my cupboards
and polishing my vocal chords.
I’ve taken the carpets out from under my feet,
shaking them free of stray stones and unwanted dust.
I stripped the skin I wore from my skeleton and hung it out on a line,
sprinkled mulch on my molecules and waited for the sun to rise, and there,
untainted and unshackled,
I watched flowers grow from her.


Meela Smith has been a writer and lover of literature since an early age. Her work primarily consists of poetry and short stories. Since graduating from The Pennsylvania State University in May 2018, she has been focusing on collecting her work for publication. She enjoys expressing her personal exploration through words and hopes they find others in a meaningful way. She currently resides in beautiful Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania.