Topography and Other poems
by Hallie Fogarty
[cw: self harm, suicide and mental health]
Like a mother’s blood, spilt,
I touch you in shades of pink.
I uncover you, only for us both
to play dumb.
I hit the curb on my way out
and I think of you.
My radio broke and
only played one song,
one song with the chords
that sound like you, and
then it played nothing at all.
The silence suited you better.
There Will Be Other Movies
with translations that can’t be read
and subtitles you’ll speak over;
there will be other days that turn into
nights with long winded calls and dead
But I will wake up in the morning having
forgotten you. I’ll be refreshed.
A blank memory will do me wonders.
A Litany for Pretty Things
I had a dream that all of my teeth fell out
of my mouth, right into my hands. But I
caught them, intact and brand new. None
of them had crumbled. I resort back to
biting my nails, tugging at the long whites
and picking at the skin. I bite down when I
am bored. I bite down the parts of me that
have room to grow.
i am in a therapist’s office,
or a psychiatrist’s office,
i don’t know her degree,
and the painting on the wall swirls
and eats me up. i am
swirling and falling
and swirling and falling
in shades of cornflower blue.
my hand will trip on cerulean,
out pours some powder blue.
blue is a stupid color for a doctor’s office,
for a doctor who’s supposed
to tell me not to kill myself,
supposed to notice the Band-Aid on my thigh
and the stuttering of words.
blue is a stupid color for this whirlpool
of doctor language, of parts of the brain.
she says another name of a medicine
and the corners of my eyes blur a little.
i only see static, only see
flashes of her blonde hair, the only
bright thing against the blue.
There’s a heart on the other side of the telephone,
on the other side of God.
Your soul is a piece of paper with
perforated edges for the taking.
Every word is a foreign language to your ears
and you can hear the ringing.
When you cut your arms at night,
you taste iron.
Hallie Fogarty (she/they) is a lesbian poet, writer, and visual artist currently creating and studying in Northern Kentucky. When not creating, she can be found reading or spending time with her three dogs. Her work is forthcoming in Vox Viola Literary Magazine and she can be found on twitter @halfogarty