My handwriting looks exactly like his,
Down to the way I do my D’s.
Every time I write my name, I am reminded.
The letters laugh at me and sneer sweetly,
They call me names and raise their calloused hands;
Other touches are much too soft, and linger far too often.
D for ‘do you want some coke?’.
D for drunkard.
D for dad.
His rage lives inside me—
A thousand tiny splinters
That throb and ache.
They lie dormant, slowly festering,
Gnawing at my insides like a termite.
I fear that one day I will be nothing but a mosaic of wood.
Feb 1, 2022
Feb 1, 2022 at 1:40 AM UTC
I’ve never really been a religious person
My childhood was steeped in catholicism
Far too much,
But I’d liken finding you
To finding god.
Feb 1, 2022
Feb 1, 2022 at 1:33 AM UTC
My lungs are on fire,
But mother says I mustn’t keep still.
My lungs are on fire,
But mother says I am perfectly fine,
so I must be okay.
Did you take your vitamins? Drink enough water? Have you gone outside? How did you sleep? Get out of the house. Go for a walk. Stay off your phone. Stop complaining.
My lungs are on fire,
But it must be my fault.
My lungs are on fire,
But are they really?
Perhaps I am possessed
By this fire in my lungs
Perhaps I am made less
By this fire in my lungs
But one thing is for certain
Beyond a shadow of a doubt,
Is that mother knows best
In all matters of the chest
Jan 31, 2022
Jan 31, 2022 at 8:17 PM UTC
Trust my body;
But what if my body is lying to me.
How do I tell the difference.
May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 1:35 AM UTC
I prayed to God for appendicitis
Every time my father and I fought.
The warm concrete against my feet
As I sat begging
To be anywhere but here.
The air was thick and hard to breathe
But the sun was shining
And the birds were chirping
So what excuse did I have to leave.
Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 7:57 PM UTC
‘I love you’, you say.
‘I know’, I say—
Because sometimes
It is not enough
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 10:29 PM UTC
I will always want to give
And give—
Until my heart is bleeding and raw.
And your apathy
Weighs in the air
As much as my mud-filled lungs.
And even when I know
You’re no good for me,
Still—I am smothered by your tyranny.
Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 8:46 PM UTC
My dog reminds me of Pine trees
And silent pleas
That tumble from my mouth
Crying out softly,
‘Why me?’
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 11:30 PM UTC
I had plans tonight.
To go to the movies
And the gym after that.
But then I couldn’t find a hairband
And I’m thrown into a tizzy.
I ransack tables and I flip over chairs;
I look and I look
In
Every
Nook.
But nothing.
Now it’s time to go to the movies
And everyone’s waiting on me,
But I’m still stuck on the hairband
And can’t find the strength to leave.
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 8:12 PM UTC
With a belt around her neck
She doesn’t stop to check
Who her choices affect
But what did I expect.
With a heavy hollow heart and a soft somber smile,
I ask her if she really cares.
She says that she does,
But it feels like she doesn’t.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
I want to believe you,
I really do,
But there's not much more
I can endure.
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 1:29 PM UTC