Mela Blust


i lost my milk teeth on tug of war

with my emotions 

cut my teeth on silence, on questions

“you’re too young to understand”

they said

but the darkness whispered answers to my youthful heart

shadows whispered knowledge

to my teenaged soul 

father fills the fridge and 

mother fills the dinner plate

but who will fill the heart? 

i’m always a little girl, always a little confused

i think about those flowering dogwood tree days

those playhouse tree friend days

and somehow still i’m thirteen

smoking banana peels, skipping school, and climbing a tree to escape

old white man peering into the backyard days

cherry tree in the backyard days

something naïve floating in

my nipples hard in the summer wind

remembering now how much i wanted the attention

i must have deserved every little death

“you’re too young to worry about that kind of thing ‘

mother’s voice dies on the breeze

and my youth

cherry flavored pop rock sweet

doesn’t taste as good





Mela Blust is a moonchild, and has always had an affinity for the darkness. She is a poet, a painter, a sculptor, and a jeweler. She has been writing poetry since she was a child. Her work has appeared in The Bitter Oleander, Isacoustic, Rust+Moth, Anti Heroin Chic, Califragile, Tilde Journal, Setu Magazine, Rhythm & Bones Lit, and more, and is forthcoming in The Nassau Review, The Sierra Nevada Review, and The Stray Branch, among others. Her debut poetry collection, Skeleton Parade, is forthcoming with Apep Publications in 2019. She is the social media coordinator for Animal Heart Press, as well as a poetry reader for The Rise Up Review. She can be followed at