Unspoken
My body.
Contracts like a spring.
As if hands
push inward from both sides.
The only thing
that stops the spiral from
leaping.
Two fleshy manacles
holding it in place.
As I follow the lines
of a tiled floor
like a fucked up maze.
Staving off the feeling of
eyes that burn into
my chest.
Doing all they can
to pry open my ribs.
I can feel the hands slipping
and about to unwind
coil after
coil.
Unraveling like wet string.
Collin Anderson Memorial Award for Poetry Winner
Griffin Smith is a senior at SUNY Cortland majoring in New Communication Media Studies. After college he plans to pursue his passion in filmmaking and writing. He loves the idea of creating from scratch and seeing the growth. Griffin has no doubt he has found his calling.