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Burn

Poetry by Jessica Costello

The road home feels like a funeral procession—steady pace, no interruptions, clear destination.
But I can’t see who burns atop the pyre;
whether the pile of ash is my past self or my progress, given oxygen only to perish
in offering to an uncertain, unknowable,
potential(ly)
greater good
crowning a hill in open air.

Would you do it again? I ask a mediocre mirror of myself
Would you die for me
so I can live for you?


A pinch of pain now, for later glory
a moment of doubt--
She lights the match.
About the Writer
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Jess Costello is a graduate student in counseling, writer and arts reporter for Boston Hassle. Her work has appeared in Boston Accent, The Blue Mountain Review, and a variety of other outlets. When not studying or writing, she's exploring nature, talking to her cat, playing the ukulele, or haunting Instagram and Twitter @jcostellowrites.
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  • Who we are
    • In Support of Black Lives and Voices: How You Can Help
    • Book Reviews
    • Love Yourshelf
    • Reading Night 2019
  • Submit
  • Issues
    • Volume 1
    • Volume 2 >
      • Featured Artist_Mia
    • Tales From Six Feet Apart >
      • Featured Artist_Ariane
    • Volume 3 >
      • Featured Artist_Jiesha
  • Online Publication
  • Editing Service
  • Store
  • Subscribe
  • More
    • Contact us