Injured

Injured souls
Lap from Empty Bowls
Tasting the last drops of Happiness
That left them

The hollowness
Haunts their tortured souls

Feast from the BEAST
That READ the words in your HEAD
That were best kept UNREAD

Instead, you put all in verse
To END the CURSE

The PAIN leaves your BRAIN
After your SOUL has been drained

Back to the lapping...
Is it there?

Putting a square peg
Into a ROUND hole isn’t EASY.

 
— Liz Parkin


Liz Parkin is a mother and grandmother extraordinaire. She is also an artist, writer, activist/shit-disturber, peacemaker, community volunteer, friend, dancer, survivor of domestic assault, Amazon warrior and fearless with the help of her friends. Liz writes poetry and paints acrylics of and in Barra de Navidad, Jalisco as well as the Lower Mainland of British Columbia.

Her art and poetry appear in Last Call: Poems, Stories and Art from the Costalegre (2015).