extraordinary ordinary life
living alone not by choice but by necessity
I fix what’s broken
over the years forgotten
on and below the social ladder
everywhere we have
wrong pattern ingrained
as if loosely prepared
to NOT communicate
why is that if all this knowledge
it lies there free to be taken
I learned
that some of us
cannot be changed
in the name of nothing
even if it heals
not only them
but whole families
it just not going to happen
there will still be people
as I
who write poems instead
of communicating
as casual conversation
it can bruise, buffet, burn
from own mother’s mouth
every single word of mine
melted, mutilated, meaningless
what for and why to this extent?
to house the younger
by harming the older
I don’t see any sense in this
bleeding on the page and longing
for the family I never had
but there is still hope
that there is someone
understanding the obvious
or am I wrong?
*
February 2023
***
Thank you for reading!
If you liked this poem, you can add your Insights, Comment, leave a Heart, Tip, Pledge, or Subscribe. I will appreciate any support you have shown for my work.
You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Mescaline Brisset on my Vocal profile. The art of creation never ends.
About the Creator
Mescaline Brisset
if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
so you want to be a writer? – Charles Bukowski
Find me on Medium
Comments
Mescaline Brisset is not accepting comments at the moment
Want to show your support? Send them a one-off tip.