The Day I Died

Kristina Heflin


there was no funeral dirge

                no flowers scenting

                rain soaked air

nobody dressed in black

or wiped tears with

delicate embroidered kerchiefs


                i was rolled in a ditch

                left bloated in the sun

skin stretched tented taut

over stinking gases weeds

growing in elbow crooks knee bends


                flies and their offspring found

                orifices wet and sunken

popping the zepplin body

with a sigh

releasing boiled over


                pressure so crinkled

                thin canvas relaxed

onto silver solid bones

marrow seeped over uncoiled tendons

released the final juice of life as


                bones crumbled around it

                glass blown by dust and wind

black of sunken smile stared

at the unblinking eye of the sun

revelled in its final rest



Kristina Heflin is an Arizona State University graduate student, based in Northern Alabama. She has served on the editorial board of the literary journal Flumes and was Activities Coordinator for the Yuba College Literary Arts Club. She has been published in the literary journals Flumes, Canyon Voices, Fearsome Critters, and Diverse Minds, the websites 2Elizabeths, the write launch, and Underwood as well as the anthology The Beckoning. Future publications include Broad River Review, Duck Lake Journal, and Passaic/Voluspa. When she’s not writing, she enjoys horseback riding and Marvel comics.