Lauren Milici is a Florida native who writes poetry, teaches English, and is currently getting her MFA in Creative Writing somewhere in the mountains of West Virginia. When she isn't crafting sad poems about sex, she's either writing or shouting into the void about film, TV, and all things pop culture.



Also by Lauren Milici: Three Poems Two Poems Two Poems


Lauren Milici

The Patron Saint of Nothing in Particular

for G The first time I break skin, bleed on nice white sheets, but not the last. Loss is never a person & no one can break this kid’s heart, she is so far beyond that. The woman I become shaves her head again & again because nothing ever feels clean. For a year, I don’t let anyone fuck me. My body is a nest of cut wire that wants to kill but I die in a small town before I can even lift the knife. I was saved by the sister I begged God for when I was five & a bruise was only a bruise was only a bruise.

"The Patron Saint of Nothing in Particular" started out as a private assignment in which I was tasked to write my "origin story." The poem begins with my first sexual assault, and ends with my sister — whose unconditional love has saved my life a million times over.



Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
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