Tiffany Brandon
Stories (3/0)
I Grew Up on a Fence
I grew up on a fence. Of right and wrong, of religion and none, and of celebrating things and abstaining from them, simultaneously. One house where I had to be extra careful not to upset the dragon and the other where I had to be extra cautious not to let my secrets be known. In both, I had to pretend I was not trying desperately to let people see/not see the pain and shame I wore like a uniform.
By Tiffany Brandon5 years ago in Families
I'm Letting Go
I’m letting goIn drips and drops, slowly bleedingIn Everest sized chunks cleaving at once I’m letting goOf never ending shameOf anger at the ways I’m hurtOf hating who I am and who I be, and how I doOf wanting things not meant for meOf not wanting the things I should (and need)Of darkness and anger, inky black, and always on the edgesOf sorrowful pain for what could have beenOf the naïve notion of living up to my potentialOf needing love too severely and taking a facsimile from wrong sourcesOf wanting to be seen as right and goodOf tightening my grip on people who’ve never existed as I see themOf needing control when I should let goOf being scared and little and sadOf identifying as damaged and otherOf desiring loved ones that never existed, in the ways I needed them, a lifetime ago
By Tiffany Brandon5 years ago in Poets