Love rots
Love doesn't die; it rots -
soul swarming in the summer heat.
It comes crawling out slowly,
bloody and mangled as contempt.
Death takes the form of
a preteen girl
sobbing on Her bathroom floor,
embraced only by the filtered moon.
Of a yellowed lamb,
weightless and prancing with the flies
round and round as Its body
becomes earth once more.
In a boy you once knew
when you were clumsy and kindred,
though he now stares and derides
you from across the street.
You can see His body
riddled with infectious fissures
snarling and screaming
with the beauty of what once was.
Victoria Hendricks '26 has been sharing her poetry within CB since 2022, and she is proud to be part of this small community at East. She is also a member of Phantasmagoria and Patriot Players.