Edges and Echo Chambers

We stood there as children

Stronger than we would ever be. We

Didn’t hear the screams yet, the rushed

Steps and the taste of our own tears.

The dead glitter in your eyes when

You tried to suck the life out of us.


You taught me how to punish my

Body even further, in solitude, in

Silence, for existing, for crying, for

Despairing alongside you, under your

Regiment of sorrow. You needed to drag

Me into your acts of insanity. I sat next to her

And encountered a world that belonged to us only.


We hid away in our tombs of self-made joys.

To not be touched and ransacked by you and

Your toxic worldview. You were on the hunt in

The home you created. I know all of your speeches

By heart. I never heard the word peace. I wish you

Could have seen yourself in the mirror when you

Blemished our skins and crippled our minds.


I wanted to live. I catapulted myself out the present

Around you, always wanting to be out of reach, out

Of touch, escape your hands and tongue and voice,

Not hit the walls and crumble with you and because of

You and your never-ending and gut-wrenching wrath. Your

Rooms held me prisoner and I focused on the dreamworlds

Of windows. I held her hand and we vanished together.


You followed me as you’ve put yourself into

The structure of my mind, the terrors in my

Stomach, the fears and solitude. I created my own

Footsteps. Something within me takes be back.


Back and forth. Will this ever end? Will I ever be able

To disentangle myself from your throttling patterns?

In reality, everything has already happened and I stare

Into the void, terrified, in my present, evoking your presence.

st cecilia

“Santa Cecilia” by Artemisia Gentileschi (1593-1656)

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