Escape Velocity 

by Bebe Blackwood

Escape Velocity 

made sense to burn things, made sense to light candles 

and spin screaming through the pitch black

and over the traffic bridge into the morning that never comes 


made sense to lash out, made sense to let scars, real and imagined,

burst into rose-like bloom on my fingers and palms 

and bite the skin around the ragged nails 

rip it up until it turned hard and exploded out 

in a thousand directions, in a million sweet shards


but now I can't see through the sugar that's cutting into my eyes 

the sudden still, the foxglove memories 

and there's no stopping, just the drums, the shock of lightning up my spine

jarring white and running silver and tearing up the dark, reaching, bones through the fingertips into the night—




Bebe Blackwood lives in North-East England and is constantly having to explain that she is from 'down south'. When not writing, Bebecan be found talking to her cat, who is a very good listener, and daydreaming. You can reach her on Twitter @bebe_rena.

Bebe Blackwood

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