in relation to

tight curls

twins, we have the

same big brown eyes

sitting next to each other

on the leather couch

dressed in the same outfit,

different colours.

dressed in the same

shyness out in public.

mom takes the blankets away

from her and throws them into

the garbage.I take them

out of the garbage

because i know she will not

sleep without them.

we share a bedroom.

the floor is covered in

blankets, pillows, cushions

to prepare for wrestling matches.

My nose is in a

bowl of the

left over cake batter

my mother is in the

kitchen setting the timer

for twenty five minutes

as she slides the tray into

the heated oven.

I am not old enough

to know how to carry the dog.

I place her on the pillow

and lift her up, we walk around

the house together.

puppy skye, we call her.

family game night consists of

card games and

attempts at monopoly.

i hear myself saying

“it was fun while it lasted”

chairs are pushed in

and voices are raised.

in the caravan

we drive for hours and hours.

my eyes are captivated by the

wide open fields of green,

the waters of crystal blue.

the wind alive, blowing

through tree branches.

they sit us down.

hand us the word

divorce on a pretty

platter. my sister cries

and i am fine.

He brings home women

shows off our museum of a house.

I smile, uneasy.

i am not fine.

Soon

it comes slowly and

all at once.

Empty gut

masked face

abandonment

shame

guilt

alone

loneliness

isolation

run

run. fast.

hurt

hurt

hurt.

pills

more pills

sleeping pills.

zoloft

prozac

anti psychotics.

self mutilation

take away

the razor blades.

the hospital

they remember

my name.

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3 thoughts on “in relation to”

  1. I like the format of this poem, it flows extremely well. It’s very personal and progresses in a natural state. Your openness makes it hit harder, and the drastic measure you took to cope are understandable. Divorce and broken families are hard to mend, especially when it happens when you’re younger. I suffer from depression and have had my share of medicines and cutting incidents. Just know that you are not alone and you are loved. Keep writing. I’ll be sure to follow to read more.

    I run a blog about mental illness called “Dear Hope”, join the community here: wemustbebroken.wordpress.com

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