She fell

by Essence B. Scott

I couldn't hold the earth in my hands anymore.

On Christmas Eve, she fell--

cracked like fine china smashed against the cupboard.

You look at me with angry, hurtful eyes.

How could you drop it? That was my mother's!

I look down, ashamed at myself.

I whisper an apology, but it does no good.

You step to me and pull my tresses.


All the earths landslide down

as I plead and beg and cry to be set free.

No. Instead, you set fire to already fiery hair

and walk out of the house.


It was our first—and last—Christmas.

All because I let the earth fall,

your mother's ornament break.

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Writers Bio

Bio: I am from Trenton, NJ. I have been writing since I was a kid, but now I use caffeine to get the process done. In my spare time, I read whatever I can get my hands on. I enjoy talking with other writers and seeing new places. I really want to move to New York, despite the loudness and the crowds. I have been published in three magazines: Tangents (2006, 2007), Drumbeat (2010), and Open (2011).

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