The words left.

She tried to find them as she stared into the mirror; cracked reflection cut like midnight knives that stripped her to the bone. In a butcher’s mess she viewed her mistake. The girl she broke. The heart she shattered. The rolling night with unknown flesh left pieces that couldn’t be put back together.

Her love yelled a winter’s fury.

She waded through the frost to find the words—perfect and holy words that birthed miracles. Her lips fluttered with the anticipation, she soaked them in its bitter sweetness and grew stuck. The answer didn’t come. Her love faded in the blaring white.

The words never came back.


Friday Faraday was born on the south side of Chicago. Agender and Pansexual, Friday wants their writing to be a voice for POC, LGBTQ community, and intersectional feminism. A graduate of Southern New Hampshire University. A member of Sigma Tau Delta. Friday has been published by The Paragon Journal and Nabu Review.

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