the pangs of your heart are plastered in pink plastic, by Kristin Garth

five year old tears, a purple leo, pink
elastic sewn in painted shoes the night
before the show. a fozzie bear can’t think,
stuffed brains, or blink, follows stage right,
your rond de jambe in pastel lights — cute, mute
bystander to your suffering. brown fur,
saliva-matted, buffering disputes
you utter when in bed, cotton murmurs
of childhood, bled, paraded to perform in tights
with animal, wet, hairy smells of men
and your devouring. they will wonder why
you’re cowering. you’re someplace far from them —
your head between a hand, this cotton bear,
in memories you bring everywhere.
— Published 3rd January 2019
About Kristin Garth
Kristin Garth is a Pushcart & Best of the Net nominated sonnet stalker.  Her poetry has stalked magazines like Glass, Yes, Five:2: One, Anti-Heroin Chic, Former Cactus, Occulum, Luna Luna, & many more.  She has three other chapbooks Pink Plastic House and Good Girl Games (Maverick Duck Press), Pensacola Girls (Bone & Ink Press, Sept 2018).  She has another forthcoming, Puritan U (Rhythm & Bones Lit March 2019). Her full length, Candy Cigarette, is forthcoming April 2019 (The Hedgehog Poetry Press). Follow her on Twitter:  (@lolaandjolie), and her website (