Even the Night Betrays Us — Viaduct Journal

a knock,
instead scraping,

the men press their mouths against the glass,
getting louder. they’ve crossed an entire marsh,

curved necks ready to swallow me whole,
this after so much time spent trying to feel

full, and what could I offer them
that they don’t already have?

i hold my breath, tie knots into my hair,
thread string between my teeth. another hour

to kill before sunrise. see:
how i falter in my steps.

if only i realized sooner a body
isn’t just a body. better: my body

is just a distraction when i spill myself
over the dirt. tomorrow, i will pull

the curtains
a little tighter.

By Teddy McDonald (he/him), poetry editor for VIADUCT. His bio can be found here.