Two poems by Katherine Orozco-Verderber

Fistful of Cords

By Katherine Orozco-Verderber

I have no more words left.
My vocal cords tangle between your fingers.
I have ropes of my own,
Pooling on the ground,
Blood red life force leaking
From the gaping wound you left.
Guilt overtakes you
And you shove the torn sinews
Back to my throat.
But it never fits the way it used to.
You move your hands away.
I and my flesh fall
To splash in my blood ocean
And drown in your painful mistake.




Formless

“Don’t change me!”
She screams, grabbing the hair
She cut to impress someone.
The makeup she never wore
Until her friends bonded over it
Runs in diseased rivers down her cheeks.
Her clothes belong
To various television characters.
All strong, independent, tough women.
 
How do you alter something
Manufactured beyond recognition?
Can someone change
From McDonald’s packaging
Or is there nothing left to save?
 
“Give me your approval!”
She shouts now.
Out of the corner of your eye
You see her true form.
She’s shades of pale opal
Formless, shapeless, but poised,
Waiting for you to fix your eyes on her
So she can change into what
She thinks you want.


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 About the author: Katherine Orozco-Verderber is a novelist, poet, playwright, and short story author from South Texas. Her previous works have been published all over the world. She is also the main stage manager for Zero Untitled Films/Productions, a nontraditional theatre company that seeks to stage the unstageable productions while encouraging their actors to produce their own plays. 

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