A Dead Girl
My period is heavy this month
but I am mostly bad blood anyway.
Last night, I dreamed I swam in the Hudson,
the river all red from my flow.
My vagina is mostly scales; it belongs
in the water, filtered and innocent.
I taste like warm metal
but I am mostly steel.
My blood doesn’t save; my blood seduces.
My blood runs dry in a pad after five days.
At church, they plead more blood over me
because love is bloody.
Love, is His son dying for a dead girl.
The sin clogs my cervix like an old corpse.
It is safe to die this way, what will I look like
after they drag my body out of the river?
Starr Davis is a writer and poet from Columbus, Ohio. She is a current MFA Candidate of Creative Writing at City College of New York and works as a Creative Writing Mentor for Writopia NYC. Her work has been published in journals and magazines which include Kalyani Magazine, Rigorous Magazine, Awakened Voices, Lipstickparty Magazine, and The Promethean. She lives in Bronx, NY.