Youth and Hysteria
MAR 01, 2025
How fast we grew from youth, like the vines that spur in a mother’s garden.
I remember you in the classroom, twirling hair, twiddling thumbs
always some soulless sonnet coming from the lion’s den.
I felt the wave of vicious antiquity
never would I play unless I had lost everything.
The dark season of my youth came about
and I found myself in a drey of despair
then you roared your words to me.
While I cut at the skin that covered my radius
you fed me serpentine, the devil’s lettuce.
I let you take things once precious
because I was vulnerable, uncaring
and you never asked about my pain
though it seemed only of your intention
to leave scars across my back
such tragic memories, broken friendship.
Though we may have shared smiles and crooked stories
it was never enough to heal any chain of delusion.
Still, I clung to the thought of amity
as would a newborn to her mother’s tit.
The last I tried to find you, years had gone by
waveless, I let out no cry
for the damage you wrote
and the myths you told. Simply,
I longed for a taste of summer
to sing melodies along beach grass
as we used to walk those paths together.
You turned me down, of course.
I should have known.
More years go by, and a grapevine tells
you are well and with a child.
A monstrous birth, violent as they are.
Please God, protect her
we are all children here.
