regression

February 13, 2018
By V.Montsey SILVER, Woodside Park, Other
V.Montsey SILVER, Woodside Park, Other
7 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
A reader lives a thousand lives before she dies.


after
it happened  i would
stop, sometimes

and
    prod the hurt blooming in my chest like a bruise
and
    hear my heart screaming
i wanted
    to take the pink gillette razor and let it bite into my wrists, and let the blood cleanse me. i wanted to
    open the window and feel the pungent odor of the
wistful begonias
    that
crawled over the wall

and
    i wanted to feel the
presence that death and air brought to my mouth.

anything
    i wanted something to stop the forgetting/regressing.
the pain is acrid/festering

sometimes
   i think im/going backwards
if i curl up small/ bogey man cant get me
   poor girl/pithed girl/been here before/seen it all before
i wanted
     to take the lambent
incandescence
     hovering above the candle

and
    let my face feel the flame
a baptisement/confession

i
     curl/foetal/keep away the hungry darkness/the need binds me
like an umbilical cord


The author's comments:

This piece has many personal connotations for me, and even those who have never experienced a loss or tragedy may be able to relate to the feeling of being adrify and unmoored, uncertain of your identity, that adolescence engenders.


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