little cactus, little cactus,
you armoured yourself in thorns,
you ran away to claim a wasteland throne,
never licking
your wounds. stand tall. you hid your well
of sap. now swarms of flies
herald your coronation, lizards
lay out blue tongues, and shadows thicken
like court gossip.
you sheltered your soft innards from the cruel sun.
on the eve of your rule, you pull out,
needle by needle, your crown
of thorns.
Amanda Thomas is in her third year of a BFA in Creative Writing. She writes poetry in an attempt to make words sing. She is working on a YA high fantasy novel, which is an endless joy and torture.
Find more of her work on her blog.
Follow her on Instagram at amandathepoetess.