personal travails
kept me awake at 3 am
a IKEA hammer resting at my crouch
I want to take apart my childhood bed
where the abuse happened
a distant cousin
with long, dirty fingernails
& a wagging tongue tormented
my four hot summers
he insisted his prick
tasted like strawberries
what a prick
he never heard the word no
until Daddy shut
the whole thing down
when I was skinny-hipped
without much nutrition
braces shining
I still hate this room
but my paintings are still there
& brushes & paints
I take my easel to the water’s edge
breathing, I trace the mountains
peeking out of rainy mist
I gain back some sanity
as the river lapped down
it’s the one place
I can calmly breathe
Born in Norman, Oklahoma, Carrie Magness Radna is an audiovisual cataloger at the New York Public Library, a choral singer and a poet who loves to travel. Her poems have previously appeared in The Oracular Tree, Muddy River Poetry Review, Poetry Super Highway, Walt’s Corner, Alien Buddha Press, Cajun Mutt Press, The Rye Whiskey Review and First Literary Review-East. Her latest poetry collection, In the blue hour (Nirala Publications) was published in February 2021.
