sofia fey


& I hate to be negative here, but I know how this goes:

you marvel at the morsels of sun between

my fingers, I find a lucky penny in your attention

you seem grounded– but you always do. even earth

missteps when her grass is shaken. & you can’t be dirt

to me. you can bring some though, & I’ll bring
some. but my thing is, where do I get the seed?

or what do we plant instead? I want less diagrams
& more carbonation. I want to stop mourning you

before we’ve met. give me your shoelace,
anything, I’ll plant it. or– we will

"speaking of grief," I can’t tell if our souls
are still linked, or if I’m just being dramatic
if sorrow is an empty pail & suffering the same
as moving through in order to make it out
if it’s time to allow for despondency in a room
with south facing windows & six orchids
blooming. to hold dysphoria’s hand
after realizing there is no body attached
to make space for bleakness, heartache, & woe
in a new city, with a fridge full of food, & all my
bitches waiting for me to call them

Sofia Fey is a Queer and Non-Binary writer living in LA. Currently, they are the founder of the Luminaries Poetry workshop, eic at Cabaret Contributor’s Journal, poetry editor at Hooligan Magazine, a reader for Stone of Madness Press and Kissing Dynamite, a columnist at The Poetry Question, and pursuing their Creative Writing MFA at Antioch University. Their poems have appeared in Hominum Journal, The Aurora Review, Rejection Letters, and others. They are hoping to write for TV and publish a chapbook of their poetry.