KNEE BRACE PRESS

A place for stories about chronic illness, disability, mental health, and neurodivergence.

Vulture

By

Our love laid thick and bitter on my tongue

I choked it down as not to spit
I laughed so not to lunge 

And when I saw the vultures circling
I counted down the days

Until this dead thing inside of me
would finally rot me away

and invite them in to pick

You never saw them coming
And I’d have some sympathy for that

But you shielded your eyes
By the skin of my back
So do not cry
As I’m eaten alive

Death is my peace at last

Contributor

  • Karlen Lambert is a writer and an artist, currently studying for a BFA in 3D art at UNCC. Her work explores grief and neurodivergent presentation. She enjoys working with surrealism and color in her photography and other works. She is an avid reader, writer, purple enthusiast, and music lover.