• Bailey Caughey

“cracks”

This poem was originally published on The Pittsburgher’s predecessor, The Dog Door Cultural.


crack


another piece

another splinter

trembling breath, I breathe


careful, she’s fragile


no

sudden

movements


echoes

quakes

there is an ocean in her eyes

a volcano where her heart should be


Crack


it’s breaking

she’s breaking

ravines widen

pulsing starts

a tornado in her head

oceans pour out


CRacK


silence

a pause

a shudder


C

R

A

C

K


volcanoes explode

unbearable fire

blistering heat

crawls out of the cracks

fills every crevice

the ocean’s salty water

mixes with untouchable lava


clashing, they meet


and after hours of crashing


fighting

burning

pain


when the steam has left


all that remains

are the cold

rigid

charred splinters


of a once living

breathing

beating


heart


in this new rocky state

she’s been reborn to feel


nothing. ▲



Bailey Caughey is an undergraduate at the University of Edinburgh majoring in English and Scottish Literature. Her poetry focuses on pain, internalized struggles, and reconciliation.