poem

a piece of writing that partakes of the nature of both speech and song that is nearly always rhythmical, usually metaphorical, and often exhibits such formal elements as meter, rhyme, and stanzaic structure 

1

untitled

I’m trying to figure out

the best way to say

what I need to say

to come to

a place where things make sense

without being offensive

without y’all getting defensive.

 

You see, I’ve been “inspired by recent events”

Like the email dad wrote me

That I thought

would be different.


Recent events.


Thought he meant my little brother

who had been to jail

then the hospital

but y’all

that wasn’t it at all.

 

Instead of compassion

for my brother

he spoke of passion for another

conspiracy theory of

right wing politics.

 

I’m sorry my brothers, my sisters,

our dad doesn’t care about us

more than to think us heretics

because we don’t subscribe

to that mess.

 

Five kids and six grands

Eleven humans standing on this earth

And he knows nothing of us.

Doesn’t give a f*ck about us.


From near the moment of my birth

I’ve strived to please him

to drive the ball out of the back

to show that nothing is lacking.

 

Perfection.

 

He didn’t demand it, rather

He passively put us down

if we didn’t stand in front of him

with an A plus.

 

"Which question did you miss?"

 

"Is your eyesight amiss?"

 

He set a high bar

but he wasn’t able…

he was emotionally unavailable

as a result, I’m unstable.

 

Let me ask you this, dad

what about my happiness?


(2019)

2

April 2022

3

it’s the not knowing

 

the not knowing if I’ll see the way he winks at me

with both eyes

 

the not knowing if I’ll hear the enticing sound

of his giggle

 

the not knowing if I’ll hear him say ‘hey bek’

as only he does


the not knowing if i'll hear his accent

in person


the not knowing the when, where, why, how

of my exit

from their lives

of their exit

from mine

July 2022

4

Under the Mask

I’m so afraid of everything

It’s exhausting

I try to be mindful as they say

To ground myself

But without my coping mechanism of overthought

I get scared of the bigger things

Like the complexities of life

And the inevitability of death

And so I return to overthought to find comfort

Because it’s what I know

Then I find myself - again - exhausted

And the cycle repeats


I feel like the scared little kid that I always have been


I just want someone to rescue me from it

To tell me it’s going to be ok

And that’s too much to put on anyone

I’m the only one who is going to be rescuing me

Most days I don’t think I can do it

Or if I can, it won’t be anytime soon

Because it involves slowing down

And slowing down is foreign

And when I try I’m only reminded that

I’m so afraid of everything. 

November 7, 2022 (12:44 a.m.)