
Who will be there when the light goes out?
By: Rose Cervantes
I am used to dread
snakes coiled up in my bed sheets.
How many times can I shed this skin
before my skin cells get tired of everlasting sadness?
Who will find me sleeping if I’ve smashed all the lightbulbs?
If you find me still, don’t worry
the snakes don’t bite in their own home.
I am anti venom
For strangers turned friends.
I am Venus
For friends turned lovers.
I am Medusa’s long lost sister
sitting on the edge of a Boulder
and a dark place.
Light my hair on fire
and I will burn for 27 days
and not a day longer.
I am used to dread
Loves little brother.
I was the little sister
setting myself on fire every family dinner.
A flame sent to keep them warm.
They told me my heart was a lantern
I swallowed oil and scales sprouted.
I am choking on light and lonely.
Molting is something I watched my mother do
Privately.
I don’t fear dying alone in the dark.
I fear my family will freeze in Antarctica.
My lantern is still beating
and I am used to dread.
Soon I will run out of skin or maybe it will be oil.
They should have told me I was a snake
at least I would be able to see in the dark.
​
​
*Published in Neptune Poetry Magainze. St Pete, FL. Oct 2021
​