reflection of a dead deer -- poetry by Antaya Malnati

the target carved into my forehead 

burns, pulses like a stab wound

although it’s no deeper than the first

layer of flesh. faintly beige fur is 

tainted with nearly dried blood. i think

i like the idea of being the period

at the end of a sentence.

maybe i could be  

significant enough for you to pause–

just long enough to inspect

the bullet wound in my head

like an artist. do you

look through it like a window

into my splintered soul,

like a mirror into yours?

maybe now you will take me

for a prize. clean me up and mount me

on your basement wall. i sit prettiest 

dead. 

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Antaya is a 4-time award winning poet who spends her days writing, drawing, and cooking. She has been published for her first place award in the IHSWC. Antaya is a sophomore in high school with big dreams in creative writing.