girl/closet | father/stairs | ghost/room | a poem

loss stands tall in the room

where my mother falls silent


you approach my mother

you approach a dead child


my mother’s grief is full of life


death is one thing

suicide is another


rage directed at thin air

returns unacknowledged

and razor-sharp

to my mother’s heart


the faces of women that I’ve studied as a countermeasure

bear the presence of men

and absence of themselves


men who needed two bodies to exist

one to exploit

and one to crown king


men who felt so small and inexistent

that they bred children

to manifest their superiority

turned themselves into giants

that nobody ever questions

because they’re set in stone

for as long as anyone could remember


did I ever say, please, Father, come home


I waited

as a child

to lay eyes on the truth

that forced its way home


my father’s omitted past

raised me without his knowledge

photograph © Laura Gentile 2021 | Instagram: @melpomenepaintings

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