Ashwaterdaughter / Daughterhair | A Poem | Self-exorcism

Your disgust was never without appetite.

Your eyes gleamed with all shades of guilt

And endless stings of reproach.

For something done and unsaid.

My body, perhaps, our bodies,

Our names that we wouldn’t live up to,

What went on inside of your head.

I could never figure it out,

Put it on the full map,

Decipher the landscapes of your insanity.

You dragged me into your footsteps

Until I became submissive,

Until I did everything to accompany you,

To keep you calm,

To avoid unnecessary violence,

Exaggerated outbursts, the outlines expanding into limitlessness.

Daughterhair, oh mine,

Oh yours,

To pull, to harass, afire, ashwater, sinkhead,

I begged you without words,

When all I had left was to stand on my feet

With fists ready to go,

When fury meets explosion,

We meet each other there,

You made me go there,

Daddy animalistic, survival mode,

Body protective, sense of self,

Vampiredaddy sucks my soul out.

“Selbstporträt als Pierrot” by Zinaida Serebriakova (1884-1967)

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