stealing a child’s time | a magic trick | a poem

I write from a sense of urgency


I write because you wouldn’t let me speak


I don’t speak the way I write


get used to it


you are reading yourself


whatever comes to mind

whoever comes to mind


don’t lie to yourself


I write because you held my head underwater


what you read

is not necessarily what I have written


you brought me here

and conveyed to me that the reason why I’m alive

is you

and that whoever I think I am

is non-existent and inconsequential


he wants to shut down my grief

it’s enough now

pull yourself together

it happened

get over it

his shame comes close to me

his anguish, his fragility

his violent silence

his sick, contaminated posture

that I’m supposed to obey and mimic

but before he could put his broken hands on me

she put an end to it

she let me be

she let me mourn

don’t you dare come between me and my grief


he looks at me

and imagines how I should be


I was born with a voice

and conditioned to split it in two

one to keep to myself

the other to appease men


you put things into me

that you wanted me to forget

but you never stopped revisiting them


I never felt whole

when you preached that I belonged to you


everything looked too inviting

to be falling apart

My own drawing © Laura Gentile 2021 | Instagram: @melpomenepaintings

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