To My Youth. {poetry}

I hope you laugh

And shatter the starlight in your eyes

Like each breath

That hangs like dusty spines

And gallows

Like nostrils that swamp your fear to ink

To word wet upon your teeth

I hope you howl

With the moonlight draped upon your tongue

And ignite your lips


And swilled scarlet

With the night’s fervent kiss

A youth drowned upon your breath

I hope you shout

And fell mountains around your ears

I hope you gasp the color blue

And paint watercolor of your gentle lungs

I hope you flood your gentle breast

With wild breath

And sunspot life

And ornery lust upon your lip

And I hope you tend the dreams

Like veins beneath your wrists

That spill into sweat

Into soul

And I hope you lace your breath

With their quiet courage

Like dandelions

I hope you turn your gaze to your bones

Like blush

And watch into ashes they burn

Into flame

Into skin

That trembles to taste completion thereupon your wrinkled brow

I hope you capture

The itch in your woman’s palms

With the flutter of your holy blink

When you melt upon his lover lips

And know that you have found

The breast that beats

In perfect plight upon your own

In worship strewn about your dimpled hips

Like divinity

I hope you arch your spine

And thrust sweet limbs upon the sky

And I hope you tear your flesh from bone

Like rose petals and damnation

And I hope you, darling,

Are never afraid to sew your wounded flesh

With whispered baby’s breath

And the sunshine of your smile

I hope you never tame your wild hips

And always breathe

With the hymn of passion

Poured white upon your teeth

I hope you taste the world that grows upon your ribs

And sew wonder in your gait

I hope you sway

Like the moonlight that slumbers in your hair

And wake the beast

That bleeds masts of your wilting heart

In this fledgling earth

Like tongue

Like breast

I hope you paint your cheeks

With the deep red pain that quells your winged throat

And I hope you pluck their limbs of softened gild

From atop your noble skin

And tend to them

Like the wildflowers that grow your woman’s grin

I hope you tangle infinity in your sorceress hands

And breathe heady of its musk

A perfume stained upon your scalding wraith

Like shadows

That taste of yellowed elegance

And time

I hope you laugh

Rich and jeweled upon the world

Like a pearl that breeds beauty

And life and utter breath

With the years that tend your gorging flesh

I hope you shatter

Boldly into mountaintop teeth

And never forget

Your crystalline smile

Ever so much more beautiful

For the life that trickles in its cracks

And whispers secrets sewn

Of the stuttered past

To the freckles on your nose

I hope your laughter tastes

Like wine

And stains burgundy the fragile wind

I hope you break upon the world

And never forget

That you, my dear,

Are a torrid mile

Of ancient bones

Sweated into utter grace

And sweet moon-skin.


EmilyPurcell02Emily Purcell views writing as an orgasmic means of self-destruction and the truest form of beauty to tangibly exist: as a salve of ink and eloquence to soothe her soul. She first realized that she could write when her 7th grade teacher brought her dog to class and told her to “Write a story about her! Get to it!” and hasn’t looked back. Poetry, she believes, chooses its vessels into written word from birth and that she was gifted its scarlet essence, born with the extraordinary duty to be that medium. When asked why she writes, Emily answers, “It is how I know. It is how I breathe.” Emily thrives from written word and it often consumes her into the wee hours of the night. It burns electric in her veins and she seeks only to ignite the world with it: a monumental task, but a goal that finds its sinew atop her bones. She is a student in her home state of Virginia and enjoys emails, feedback, and any correspondence with others! You can reach her via email and follow her on Instagram.


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