Author: poetryfest

There are some things that a person never forgets

Like their first funeral
A 19 year old girl
Who lost her battle to opioids
I was 14, but her little brother was 9
I remember his little face
So confused and upset
The sound of my aunt
Grieving her only daughter
The look on my moms face
When her name comes up
Watching my family pretend to be ok
8 years later

Or the look of defeat
When my grandma knew the cancer had won
The feeling of hugging her for the last time
Skin and bones
My dads voice when he said her fight had ended
Watching a family
That just lost its foundation
Struggle to recover
The sight of my grandpa
Placing flowers on her grave
Saying it was supposed to be him

Watching the life slowly leave
My childhood pets’ body
The energetic rescue now unrecognizable
So sad, so tired
Riddled with cancer
My sister held his paw until it was over

They were the hardest goodbyes
But one day they’ll be the best hellos

Preface:
When I was seven, I ate soap to see how it tasted. Soap doesn’t taste good, but it was fun to
have bubbles come out of my mouth. Now, many years later, bubbles still escape me—
fragile, fleeting, but no longer playful.

———-

And if I had the words to tell you,
I promise that I would.
Words seem to fail me again and again,
phrases put together carefully,
only to pop and vanish like bubbles from my mouth,
never to be seen again.
Words, they always fail me,
so I stick to my own thoughts
like a criminal contained to the jail of screaming silence.

In my mind, the words flow unbroken,
but they cannot breathe this air,
cannot stand the weight of being heard.
So when my bubbles pop,
I pick up my pencil,
worn, taped up, and old
(perhaps from carrying the weight of what goes unsaid)
and taint the papers with my forsaken words,
and suddenly the pages are no longer pure white.

They carry my words so I don’t have to,
but only so many bubbles
can be placed on gentle paper,
and only so many can swell inside my head,
until something is
bound
to
break.

And so I wanted to love you.
Is that so awful?
Last time I saw you
You were dancing like a skeleton
In the light of a signal fire
made of darkness and bone
Did you think it would scare me?
Turn me away to learn
That your mouth spews shadow
Or I would leave you alone? No.
Give me your body
Lend me your heart space
Let me love and live in
Every part that feels dark
I just wanted to give you light
I just wanted to give you life
Is that so terrible?

Horsing around outside the parking lot.
Up to my chest in the grass
The fire spread so fast
My world was so small in those days
And in seconds that fire took it over
Blasting me from all sides with its hurt
Like it hated me for the person I would one day become
So… in a way, the fire felt a lot like home
As it charred my flesh to the bone

What is a weapon but intent.
You are dared to be aware of your surroundings.
But what if they drown you?
You’re trying to tread water.
What is a weapon but intent.
You’re required to find civility as your civic duty.
Placed in spaces you didn’t choose to be in.
Beholden to traditions that aren’t your own.
You’re trying to tread water.
What is a weapon but intent.
Searching for the words to speak to the world in the language they can all understand.
Empathy is intrinsic and you can’t drown.
You’re trying to tread water.
No one can go at this alone but you’re left to believe the way we can all understand each other is if I go in this booth and cast a vote.
What is a weapon but intent.
But, what if that weapon hasn’t ever been lethal to the establishment. So, that’s why they want you to have it in your arsenal.

What is a weapon but intent.
The water your treading is occupied with everyone that understands.
We all understand but we feel these weapons given are innocuous at best and you’ll just be left to see others receive this weapon at worst.