kinda edgy, sorry about that. one or two are published
thar be my way of expression
again,
braced; bare, brisk, born
you crawl from a wet cave
bleeding; burnt, buried, broken
peeling away from your roots
sprouting furs and feathers and scales
tongues, teeth, eyes, a brain
every string and bead strumming together
humming, inconsistently,
an equilibrium of rot and growth
birth and death, unending
but it all crashes together again
and you wake up again
in a dry bed
wrapped in cloth
oh, so afraid
And again
father
i walk on eggshells and over tripwires
through a booming, cluttered hallway
it looks nothing like the home i grew up in.
snot and tears run into my mouth
i can’t bare to see or hear this reflection of my childhood
through a poor little girl who doesn’t deserve these burns from the fire she was born from.
my worst nightmare is to be someone who’s just like him
it’s why i can’t stand anger, why i avoid conflict, why i work so hard just to please everyone else
but for what?
when i was a little girl, i thought, “i wanted to be just like him”, because i looked up to the man
but now, as a young woman, slouching and cowering when he scowls
i’m still that scared little girl
crying in her bed
“i just wanna go back home to mom.”
———————————————————————
Pull me under so that I may breathe your soul and drown in what’s left of us
Tear into me so that I may understand truly
the love you’ve held for me
Paint your walls with my color, for you have not left me since the day I left you
I see you in a mind that cannot see, in picture-less films we call dreams
This isn’t about you, it’s about me.
It’s about me and a you that is better than what you have and what you were
Because this you was never you to begin with
His face is sweeter and well defined, soft and quiet; much more kind
He’s not even you to think of it, but he’s not even real, so only I will think of it
It being a man with no face to replace a boy in such a space to have his face disgraced
All to be encased, in a place like space: within my own face.
———————————————————————
i catch a glimpse of myself in a through my mirror’s reflection
a clone, brittle and cicatriz patterns like a leopard
in a way it could be beautiful, but of course, there’s got to be correction;
why, my patterns aren’t as beautiful, but i can’t be rid of them
a vessel i so desperately need to fix, i cannot live with this obsolete perfection
because there’s a cause, to everything, forever, and it’s never my favorite
to reflect on a reflection, to savor it
i wish to throw a stone to destroy and forget about it
why, these leopard prints could look like handprints
why, this body is so strange and pernicious.
why, i can’t take that next step, and run away to my own jungle,
why i am stuck in this bathroom, waiting for my shower to warm up.
why, it hurts to reflect.
why, i have these leopard prints. i do not rhyme, rhyming is not my thing
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