In the flutter-storm
of your indifference,
impaled and hung up
on your shrine—
your one mistake,
you missed my heart—
I found my footing,
one toe, one claw—one, two, at a time.
Now, I’m sending you a message
by your own barbed wire—
an epitaph to call, to cry your own,
“Here lies
your lies”—your blacks, your whites,
gray no more of my skies.
I was your patient zero,
but not one of your nine.
© 2025 Jennifer Wagner
Shrikes impale their prey on thorns and barbed wire fences to save for later and to hold while tearing apart to eat. They often have black and white plumage and their nicknames are “butcher bird” and “nine-killer,” which refers to folklore that they must kill nine victims before eating one. And since it’s Day Nine…
NaPoWriMo 9 challenge: use both rhyme and uneven line lengths
Shay’s Word Garden Word List: epitaph, shrine, skies