“Peak, South Carolina”

By: Ashley Sapp 

(content warning: mental illness)

I found a picture of an eyeball online

with veins that stretched and curved

like bare trees in a forest.             How amazing

to briefly notice the wild that quietly pervades

behind our eyelids, a complicated but humble

jungle birthing something ocular, singular.

The seemingly untamed parts of myself

are reflected in mirrors that I dare not touch

for I was taught my skin is forbidden,        even to me.

So, I seek out abandoned places       – crumbling churches,

decrepit train depots, uninhabited homes –

and they remind me of my body.

We are also built to decay.

Ashley Sapp (she/her) resides in Columbia, South Carolina, with her husband and furbabies. She earned a Bachelor of Arts degree in English from the University of South Carolina in 2010 and has written for various publications. Her work has previously appeared in Indie Chick, The Daily Drunk Mag, and the Common Ground Review. She is a bibliophile who enjoys traveling, tattoos, and photography. Ashley has written two poetry collections: Wild Becomes You and Silence Is A Ballad.

Twitter: @ashthesapp