Death wears a crown of holly and laurel, drapes her steed gold and green. Let me tell you something. Lately, She’s been haunting my dreams again, Ebony-haired and regal, a wraith with a siren’s song and elegant wrists. Now is not your time, she whispers, but gods. Gods. I am splitting apart between bone and sinew, Turning in my self-dug grave in a grove of ash trees. I splinter like wood, am set alight by the sun. Tell me: Would I get a crown like yours, if I close my eyes long enough?
Yushan C. is an emerging Canadian author who writes on nostalgia, identity, optimism… everything, really. She lives in Edmonton, AB and looks forward to starting an undergraduate degree. Her poem, “the ghosts in this house still haunt me”, was published in TERSE Journal; her poems “Atlas”, “epitaph for the living” and “maybe we are our own villains” were published in Edmonton Youth Anthology, Volume 1.