GIRL, INTERRUPTED | Martina Dominique Dansereau

Girl with mouth of river bled dry. Girl whose first blood comes from choking back words too big for her mouth. Girl with

tightrope wrists and knife handles in her thighs. Girl like a wrecked car, rusted iron smile. Girl who swallows a sparrow

heart and spits out the feathers. Girl and her razor-rimmed eyes. Girl with knotted rope and a willow tree. Girl who isn’t

doing so well. Girl who uses your ribcage as a ladder to crawl into your throat. Girl who wrestles with your tongue. Girl for

whom forgiveness is a seed she never wants to plant. Girl who is no longer a girl. Girl who plucks flowers from her teeth and

makes a crown. Girl with nectar-covered hands, sticky sweet touch, pollen beneath her fingernails. Girl like a tree: the

crows roost near her head. Girl with earth blood-soaked at her roots. Girl who stands in lightning storms. Girl, who sparks

and blackens. Girl, refusing to burn.

—–
Martina Dominique Dansereau is a disabled, non-binary lesbian writer and artist whose works centre on trauma, marginalisation, and love, particularly as they intersect with gender, disability, mental illness, and LGBT issues. When not entrenched in academia or creating art, xe enjoys reading books with xyr snakes, who often fall asleep between the pages. You can find xem on Twitter and Instagram @herpetologics.
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Vagabond City Literary Journal

Founded in 2013, we are a literary journal dedicated to publishing outsider literature. We publish art, poetry, and creative nonfiction from marginalized creators.