The Silence Was Suffocating -- 1 May 2016

I never understood his poetry

The way he paints pictures

But never says what he means

My bones ache with my uncertainty

My lungs beg for air

As I hold in everything I wish I could say

The words are trying to claw their way out

Tearing apart my throat until I taste blood

I need to reclaim my backbone

Remove the wishbone I’ve put in its place

If I die, it’ll be by internal combustion

And my compliance was what lit the fuse.

Overwatering -- 1 May 2016

I still remember

When I was the little girl

That always overwatered plants

Filling their pots to the brim

And watching the water overflow to the floor

Making small droplets on the carpet

That would soak into my socks as I ran away.

Yesterday, my potted cactus dried up and died.

I’ve become less nurturing than the desert.
My love withers and slaughters.

What happened to the little girl

Overwatering because she didn’t know when to stop giving?

Who did this to me

And why did I let them?