Evolution by Marirose Vernalee

I don’t want to be your little animal anymore.
My infatuation with tongue and teeth and tirades
is done; I’m sick of the claw marks on my ankles
from every entitled ex-lover. The thrilling
mindlessness bores me; feeling and frontal cortex
fight like daughter and mother-in- law,
I want out of this burning brain. I want out
of this snarling, against the wall lust,
that shoves me forward and grabs my hair and bites.
I have eyes that calculate and hands that build.
I’m leaving, I’m running, I’m a part of the night
singing back into the black where I began. I’m carving my
own towers from the dirt we walked across and I don’t`
care if you’re coming. I don’t care if you’re coming.

Marirose Vernalee is a chaotic Hispanic triplet, with two brothers and a massive family tree. She currently attends Regis University in the Colorado mountains and is majoring in English, Politics, and Spanish. She edits and writes for the school newspaper, has published work in Loophole, Eye of the Storm, and the New Jersey Poet Society journals, and spends most of her time arguing with politicians.