i’m sorry
that i spent
ten whole minutes
with my fist rammed
down your throat
begging your stomach
to give you back
control.
i am sorry
that the person
you wanted to hold you
when your heart was
skipping too many beats
and your breath caught in your throat
does not even know
that it hurts
and that is what your sick mind
likes about him.
he won’t love you
even when your body
is carved like Aphrodite
and you are pretty
like a porcelain doll.
but that doesn’t mean
you won’t try.
i am sorry
that you love misery
and chasing people
who do not want you
and counting calories
and standing at the edge of
panic.
i know it makes you
feel alive.
so dear me:
the only thing
i can do
is apologize.
About the Creator
Sara
Don’t look for love.
Be love.
Smartystan
Rain didn’t stop Mala. Swaddling for Edgar covered the baby boy’s body and she held her other son’s, Burton, six-year-old hand. The mud, muck, and mire didn’t hinder her from staying on course with her mission. From Pennsylvania, they all trekked to get closer and closer to land that was never promised but simply implied. Each step produced more mud caked around her sneakers. She didn’t care. Her rucksack provided them protein packs to put into plastic bottles and nuts and berries and dried meats to keep their muscles in good health. Water hydrated. She rested. The baby had been asleep the entire time that she had started her journey and her eldest son remained silent throughout the excursion as well.
By Skyler Saunders7 days ago in Chapters
Comments (2)
Gosh, Sara...so much going on here, despite the short lines and short number of words. Always find a way to blow me away! Well done!
Wow very powerful and emotional. Excellently written.