the time that sticks

you began under my belly
squinting skins of colour,
like a lizard of disgust
a mouth of powder,
father of pains,
pills and potions.

Rub my thigh,
a concave liquid secretes,
you numbed my heart,
the age of 5, father,
the abuses, you kept slipping
you numbed my lips,
the outgrown teeth and hair.

It began like a hoax,
a daydream, soft and fermenting
under my curled lips
and a sudden nightmare of arms,
a sudden floating plethora of body parts.

(Lost my ink once again.)

 

Published by

my valiant soul

A dreamer and a believer for the upliftment of women rights. A published poet, author, writer. Believes in dancing and cooking amazing food for hungry souls at times. Loves to write and write till the moon is satisfied. My writings can be found at Visual Verse, Indian Periodical, Sick Lit mag, Duane's Poetree, Thistle magazine, among various others. Curator of Olive Skins.

24 thoughts on “the time that sticks”

  1. It hurts to see parents and life relationship turning bitter.😐
    Your ink may be running dry but it will never be lost. I believe in you and your words MVS.!❤️ Don’t stress.
    Hugs!🤗

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    Reply

      1. It’s difficult to balance writing with other tasks, but everything will work out.!❤️
        (It’s a pleasure to read your words, I pray that your ink never runs dry)

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      1. Lol. We all have written pieces we are not happy with. But I dare say your so called shit is better than what most write. Now, here I am on my vacation, on a beach, taking the time to read your blog, thank you for the laugh. My dear, I will be happy to read your shit any time. Stay inspired.

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