Permanence

by S. Hardaker

limbs and flower stems seem oddly similar,
branching and stretching and aching in their own ways;
growing pains, a reminder of maturing.

my legs are slowly giving way.
i am 11,
i am 15.

i have stopped growing now,
the legs say,
you are stuck like this.

the wind changed.
a gust could whisk petals away,
start a new bed.

but my limbs cling on for dear life,
to the bones and the broken floors,
the craters of my steps.

i am unchangeable,
they say.
i am all you’ve got,
they scream.

a daisy stem is easy to snap,
make into a crown.
my body does not go so willingly,
and it does not forget.

– permanence

The Poor Print

The Poor Print is Oriel College's student newspaper, with contributions from across the JCR, MCR, SCR, and staff. Our current Executive Editors are Siddiq Islam and Jerric Chong.

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