Poetry by Isabella Zellerbach

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flight

father are you sorry for the pain
you cause with each inhalation
and half-thought word spilling
forth a violent red

it is you father who draws first
blood—wetting the dry ground
every spring—of jagged vitriol
and call it petrichor

father—hear me when i tell you
the wax wings you so carefully
crafted and gifted me with love
to come back to you

are my liberation and my extrication
helped along by your presumption
i come home rather than fly too close
to the sun and drown

​

mother

mother               do you listen?
leave me freedom and stop
nudging the neighbor’s son
and over sung hero
to send me gifts of shiny gold

where are you?
when i say
i’m in love with nothing
but the wind and dirt
between my toes

do you see me?
when i outpace every man
you set in front
of me—even those you help
cheat to win me

oh mother         do you want?
their blood staining your fingers
when i run them through
for kissing false truths
into my skin like promises

​

Isabella is a writer with a focus on the culture/superstition of a Mexican household and how that relates to sexuality, gender dynamics, and grief/trauma. She is a graduate from Johns Hopkins University with Bachelor’s degrees in Writing Seminars and Political Science. She is a Flash Fiction Reader and Assistant Creative Non-Fiction Editor at Homology Lit. She has work forthcoming in Honey & Lime Lit. You can find her at @izellerbach on twitter or https://izellerbach.wordpress.com/. 

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