Grab my hair, and drag me across the cenotaph.
I can’t go on chasing someone who won’t chase me back,
So bury my body under the cement in case I relapse.
I’ll try to escape, but with measures, you can trap me like a rat.
If one more thing goes sideways, I think I might snap.
I’m searching for relief but am hit with every smack.
Something you know—something I don’t—is something that I lack,
But place it there, under my name, beside my final photograph.
And so the marble reads: “She was a girl who could never act.
She dressed and talked like you, but her soul was black.
She tried to understand, but everything had a meaning she couldn’t unwrap.
So genuflect here, the original bin, her final epitaph.”
Grace La Pace is from south-west Sydney, Australia. She graduated from the University of Sydney in 2021 with a degree in speech-language pathologist and currently works as a speech-language pathologist in NSW. Instagram: @missindignation.
Featured image by Ole Kloth.
