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Erica M. Hughes

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Chicago, IL, US

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A Snake Slid Under My Door

by

Erica M. Hughes



I am awake at night,
to close my eyes no more,
in fear of the snake,
sliding,
underneath my door,
begging me for,
its secrets to keep.
Of not to reveal its secrets,
from my sleep.
About how he creeps,
under my door to sweep,
my innocence,
from underneath my feet,
to rob me of my
security.
I enter my room,
my bones A-shake,
in fear of,
this slimey snake,
who will make,
me surely partake,
and violate,
my skin A-nake,
and have his cake,
when violent.
I drag my feet,
and I dread,
the snake that slides,
into my bed,
behind my mother's oblivious head,
and leaves me dead,
with nothing but,
the blood I shed,
and a tearful eye,
to peer the door within its sight,
with hate and fright,
awaiting daylight,
that I long to see,
to cast the snake,
as cast he be,
sliding,
away with my innocence,
my innocence, that he stole from me.


Dead Roses

by

Erica M. Hughes



I can see my face in the gutter's mirror,
reflecting my skin,
now dry and withered.

My withered body lie dead in the street,
my once praised beauty lie suffering defeat.

Uprooted and discarded,
I lay broken hearted,
with my once fragrant skin,
and limbs in the wind.


One Breasted Woman

by

Erica M. Hughes


A one breasted woman
sits in a field
with two babies between her thighs
she wonders which one she must kill.
She looks into their eyes
her face clearly reveals
the pain inside of her heart
that I know she must feel
the sun bears down upon them
she curses him and asks
"why do you punish us so?"
As she aches in misery,
of which of her children must go.
Drying her to the bone,
the one breasted woman shivers
she loves him
but the little one must go to the river
the longest walks of their lives
the pits of their stomachs growl
as she waits
and she aches
the demise of her child
his large eyes narrow
he innocently smiles
so small and withered...
floating away
down the still dusty river.
The women all look at each other
they know not what to say
as the one breasted woman
hobbles away.
Too weak to look back
she lifts her apt breast
to feed her one child
she lays down to rest
in the distant dry field
a hollow drum beats
although there is only child left
there is still,
not enough for the child to eat.
The breastless woman releases a shiver.
Unable to cry,
she returns to the river...