by Deanna Baringer
I am half-in, always reaching
for a lever I was never meant to pull.
I look wrong, sing wrong, walk
like somebody’s going to trip me.
I’m afraid of blood, can’t bear
to look down at my own knees.
I might be a black hole, someday
break the only arm that ever held me.
Deanna Baringer is a resident artist at Lincoln Park Performing Arts Center where she teaches creative writing and book arts to high school students. Her work has most recently appeared in Lily Poetry Journal. Originally from Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, she now calls Pittsburgh, PA home.