I am only what I’m able to give, defined by the amount in my hands scalpel to mind hand traces ear to neck “you’re mine now” and I don’t (cannot) resist I am made to please, I am not made for me. You are so sweet kindness a poison never reciprocated. If I’m able to satisfy your fill my crumbs spill as you take more than you can chew and I am no longer supported by my own will. Did I have one to begin with? If time is of the essence, then my soul is all but diminished feel the dust on my shoulders spilling out of crevices (eyes roll back into skulls, I pray to be closer to one).
Keana Labra was born and raised in Bay Area, California. Knowing the importance of representation, she would like her work to be evidence that Filipino Americans are also present in the literary and art world. She uses her experiences as reference for her poetry.