Tag: poem
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5/30
There is a strange synchronicity in the wounds from breakups. In grieving the absence of your shoulders, I miss his flannel. I write a song and don’t know who it’s about, only that it is true. The emptiness in my belly whispers secrets to the knot in my throat, its best friend. Each tiny sadness…
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4/30
To the Father Who Told Us No, His Daughter Is “A Healthy Kid” . I don’t blame you for being scared of us. I am sorry that Cancer is written on our clothes, our big purple cart, our ukuleles. As you speak, I imagine you walking these halls with your gaze magneted to the carpet,…
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3/30
You are not what they told me you’d be. The name they gave you fits like a funeral around a sunshower, a feeble attempt at containment. Widow is a word with stooped shoulders, a conch shell spine, a grey husk of waiting. . You are a million moments of sunlit water reborn as comets. Your…
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2/30
Lies (Prompt) I’m fine. I’m just tired. Don’t be nervous. You’ll be ok. You have to be more patient. Smug smiles of quarters gleaming beneath my pillow in the morning. No, you can’t help. Go to bed. Sunday morning let us pray. Head back, asking forgiveness from the rafters. Everything is fine. Don’t worry. I’m…
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shaking the dust off the poeming hands
What Matters (prompt) .Some people. Everyone. No one. I cannot choose just one without abandoning the rest. Like when I was seven and prayed every night, blowing a kiss to every dead person and animal I knew. A great-uncle I could barely remember. My grandparents’ housekeeper. A hermit crab. I could not let even one…