by Lesley Warren

It wasn’t much good, the thing that was you. No wonder you’re screwed up now. No wonder they unmade you, rolled you out like dough and balled you up again.

A ball is round and smooth and still holds promise. Your old shape? Not so much. Too much sagging compromise in the folds, not enough structural integrity.

Don’t despair, though. You’ve given them something to work with. There must’ve been something there: a spark, a kernel, a seed that saved you from being discarded.

Close your eyes, please: they don’t like you to look at them when they kill you.

A translator by trade, Lesley Warren lives for language. Born to Welsh and Filipino parents and now resident in Germany, her work encompasses themes of identity and “otherness”. Her poetry and prose have featured in a variety of print and digital publications as well as a podcast.