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flowers where they fall

at sunrise
we shoot bullets
into yellow daffodil fields
curled by the scent of spring.
there are flowers where they fall,
hollow point petals
smothered in
the rotted reek of gunpowder.
the pulsing stench
settles on our dawn-lit skin
and there is something
beautiful about the loss
stirred into my morning coffee.



your skin tingles
as you spill
this poem to yourself
will i even
love someday?
yes, the truth hurts
and you’d rather be
smoking a cigarette
under this moon,
letting it worship
the lies
of your fingers
because to pull yourself apart,
reach into your belly
and wrench at what withered
is a little raw and you have
tender bones.
but it has be done
i’m afraid to tell you
it has to be done.





Carina Solis is an African-American writer from Georgia. Her work has been recognized in Teen Ink, the Ice Lolly Review, the National Scholastic Art & Writing Awards, the Georgia River of Words, and the New York Times Summer Reading Contest, among others. She is also an editor at Polyphony Lit, an intern at Young Eager Writers, and a mentee at Ellipsis Writing. She is fifteen years old.