Scissors Like Caesars

A poem

This piece was first published in this month’s issue of Poetry Magazine. You can purchase a copy of the issue here!

 The first time you get sick and your mom 
	isn’t there to 

force feed you chicken soup and massage
	warm oil onto your throat,

you’ll wish you never made fun of how 
	she said scissors like 

caesars when you were nine. You’ll 
	learn that love 

isn’t promised, that you don’t have 
	the privilege of 

adolescent self-hatred anymore, that
	one day you will 

be Not Twenty, not eating half a sleeve 
	of saltines and 

writing poetry at two in the morning 
	with the enormity of 

your life stretching out lazily before you. 
	This memory will 

be as small as the summer thunderstorms 
	of your childhood.

Thanks for reading Trina Keeps Trying! You can find my other posts here, and you can read my poetry here. You can also subscribe to receive written works, made with love, straight to your mailbox every week.