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



You can listen to the poem by clicking below:


I have been born


I have been born


a thousand times over,

flaked into existence by

force, by will and by desire.

I have had my days

under the siege of physical limitations,

of bloodlines burned and bloodlines

mended. There is no more

time for this rotating scheme,

no space for waiting

or for continuing. I stop here. Unplugging the

flow, breathing only because

I want to, because

this skin that is mine is

the last skin I will ever claim

as the landscapes I drop, drop, then

drop me.



Copyright © 2015 by Allison Grayhurst

Fire and more cover - Copy

Currents - pastlife poems cover 4

Make the Wind cover



Published in “Anti-Heroin Chic Magazine” February 2016