Three Poems (Veronica Bennett)


you turned me into
something vindictive—
in-the-driveway, leave-a-pile-
of-blazing-sonnets-at-your-door, wait-
to-work, stay-friends-
with-your-friends, make-
you-leave-the-city vindictive—
because i turned you into
something vindictive—
and-call-it-a fuck-up, get-coffee-
with-my-mom, pick-through-
old-letters, ​we​-​were​-​just​-​kids


i meet a boy.
he’s three years older
and so much soberer,
and i like the feeling of the gold
of his watch on my sternum,
and i think it’s funny
that a bikini-clad blonde
looks down at us like mary
in a cathedral,
and i swoon when he says
that i’m ​mature
for my age

my friend takes
me to the drugstore
down the road that night,
where i spend fifty dollars.
a few weeks later i feel
the blood and flesh—
pulpy juice of an overripe
grapefruit—slowly leaching
from my body.

i drink cognac
that won’t be missed,
from a stashed water-bottle,
as i sit in the sink and stab
a dark-tipped needle into
my rib-cage,
a hundred times
or so—until my skin is marbled
with rust and indigo.


she camps out in her room
for hours each day
staring at screens
and inputting data
i smoke bowls
on her balcony and
write poems about
her bassist fingers and
the topaz in her eyes

i daydream for hours
about the way she looks at me
as we make our bodies soft
on the couch
after dark—
like she’s amazed that i remain
and has never felt warmer


Veronica Bennett was born and raised in Houston, where she lives with her cat, Handlebar. She’s finishing up her B.A. in Creative Writing at the University of Houston. Veronica serves as an art editor for Glass Mountain, UH’s undergraduate lit mag. Three of her poems have been featured in Anti-Heroin Chic.

When Veronica isn’t writing about her feelings, you can find her making people cortados and shouting into the void on Twitter (@vabnt).


image: Rob Kaniuk