through stories told

through stories told
memories shared
things said
outloud
that maybe you have never said
before?
out loud?
that sweet
sensitive
damaged
little victim you
all of a sudden
you remember her
& remember what an awful little
cunt
she could be
that sweet little sensitive you
broke hearts
& walked on the
pieces
like it was nothing
how have you never seen this before?
this side of you?
or did you just
conveniently
forget her?
file her away in the
cardboard box of your
psyche
labeled
“damaged”
&
“do not open”
“like ever”
“seriously, burn this box”

 

Advertisements

the color of my tears

the color of my tears
is the color of my eyes
some muted mix
of blue & green
that falls freely from my eyes

i get my brother’s birthday & his death day
mixed up in my head
he was born…
three weeks (& 45 years later)
he died
the last i spoke to him
was his birthday
so it is the last i remember of him
from the end of november
to almost christmas
it all blends together.
the end of him
& every time i see 12:19 on a clock
i forget that it is the birthday
of my children’s father
& only remember
it as my brother’s death
day.