Content Warning: mental health, religion

Martha hears voices coming from the moon. Very quietly,
like echoes of flowers stretching over the lawn.

She wonders why the world has stopped crying
and she hasn’t. She tries understanding how death is a silent event.

Softly holds palms of earth in her upturned hands.
What a terrible thing to be buried in. It looks like grass

and feels like childhood. Play-Doh, she remembers. She used to believe
her mother was a prophet. Always whispering.

Martha is made of words she will never speak aloud.
The more she learns about the human heart, the more she believes

it is a bomb. Martha wonders if she needs to sell her soul,
and how one goes about doing that.