The chain is cracked, only

a small tug will break it

and the wall will let down its curtain,

the leach will release its hold, find

a new host or none at all.


I empty my heat on the bed

toss with disorder, too slow on my feet.

But even so, I am carving a future

I can get behind, lift myself onto a plateau

that has many plateaus above it, sure of my growing

strength. It is possible to keep my internal

promises, not like before when the dirty current

rippled through me like a disease,

threatening, consuming

my substance and storages.


Can I say the chain is rusted,

dissolving, no access

to its binding power?

I go for walks. I am grateful

for the open door, one step




Copyright © 2022 by Allison Grayhurst



First published in “Ink Pantry” June 2022



Published in “Poets’ Espresso Review, Rings of the Moon, Volume 14 Issue 5” August 2023

Click to access Poets-Espresso-Review-Vol.-14-Issue-5-August-2023-Template.pdf



You can listen to the poem by clicking below:


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