Poetry by Heidi Miranda

                           ▲brian james CC



written on bus 16

I’ve always been very cautious about fruit 
And every other thing I put in my mouth.
A single blemish and it’ll go in the trash instead. 
I spend most of my time discarding things and
People and feelings, always tossing them 
Out like objects that mean nothing to me, so
Now I am barren and alone in this empty room. 
Does anything pure remain in this realm where 
Everything is stained or sad or changing or 
Growing? A lifetime ago I was taught to reject 
Things that were less than perfect, so I truly 
Believed that I was perfect. Now I live with 
That emptiness, and the reassurance is 
Hard as stone when it speaks to my graveyard 
Body and says that nothing new will ever
Come my way. Now the handrails on the buses 
Look like little nooses, and I hold on tightly.
I hold on tightly to the only thing that remains.





a lonely funeral

I dip the rose stem into a palette of color
/
When they closed your funeral casket 
And laid bouquets on the golden lid 
There were no roses in the arrangements. 
/
Even death paints a picture of unfairness.
/
Your family wanted yellow.
One of your sons loved yellow.
He gave you yellow and gold and the sun
And the day you left 
There was no yellow
And he wasn't even there.
/
When you gave me green tea 
It tasted like earthquake 
It smelled like freedom,
Like shifting dynamics.
You were getting older 
And in my shame
(I'm so sorry)
My visits became less frequent.
/
If I could go back to you 
I would still be afraid. 
If I had been there before they 
Closed the casket 
I would have been afraid. 
/
The rose stem trembles in my hand. 
Your death feels like a thorn in my backside;
A reminder to urge the world to stay in 
And stay alive for you. 
/
Your children held a damn party at your funeral.
I can only think about it and cry.
There was never any respect for you,
Even at the end of your life.
I'm still, so sorry.

​

Heidi Miranda is a Mexican poet working towards her B.A. in English. She has published poems in both online and in-print journals and is active on Instagram (@weepingblueberry) where she can be found posting landscape photography and quoting from her favorite poets.

---