It’s Over
Soon the blinds will be shut
and the sun
will complete
burning my skin.
Blackout curtains
and an inhalation
will transform blinking
into a nightlight carousel
of ponies and stars.
Just floating in space
as I have been
after the cord
from the mothership
was severed
& my ship’s captain
was too lazy
uninterested
to pull me back in.
They wanted me to float away
after I repaired their ship.
It’s about time
because I’m about done
trying to repair the damage
from the supramarginal gaps.
There’s only so much pink icing
pink blush
and peach jam
to spread over the craters.
No more making shopping lists
no more shopping
no more patching
or decorating
no more trash.
Thank you
lovelist Apocalypse
for it’s what we all deserve.
I die knowing I tried my best
within this mess
with some regrets
and confess
if my cells
could regress:
I’d whisper to the one
covered in pink
to try harder to link
to those who sewed buttons
on your torn up shirts
to those with sprinkles in their eyes.
Gina Tron is the author of three books, including ‘You’re Fine.’ She has been published in literary journals including Green Mountains Review, Hunger Mountain, Tupelo Press, Junto Magazine and CatheXis Northwest Press and has contributed to publications like the Washington Post, VICE, Daily Beast and Politico. With an MFA in Writing and Publishing from the Vermont College of Fine Arts, she writes daily crime content for Oxygen.