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I have bottled my grief and put it on a sunny windowsill which made it all seem better for awhile sunlight shining through years of tears the sound of rain in the background but nothing has changed my haunted self is tired of the pretenses of life beating around the bush talking to rocks like they give a shit my inner child used to need a hug but now her teeth are razor sharp and those windowsill tears we once worshiped only burns our skin in some abandoned basement in my mind I hold her dirty hand while she reminds me how my rage should be sharper now than her teeth her scabs predate my scars our eyes are the same she said she has found a way to peace and I watch her in the dark scratching her scabs on some abandoned mattress well what is it then? she scratches at my wrist scars like they are bug bites it is her version of a hug we are afraid of basements and the dark and ghosts but we are past that now that our only constant is the dead who throw us into the dark like that asshole dad that threw you into the pool when you didn't know how to swim we can hide out here with the dead until its all over the ghosts cling to us like moths my inner child sits crosslegged surrounded by them an old lady ghost braids her hair my ghosts are standing beside me like they are at a 7-11 wondering if they should even bother I don't know it seems pretty bleak she gives me a hard stare my dead childhood cat baby is purring in her lap I remember being you but you haven't lived my life what makes you think I would want to? and here we are both still here living amongst the ghosts my inner child ready to eat popcorn with the ghosts while the world wars itself to destruction soon, I tell her and she flicks a scab at me while our cat purrs our childhood bedroom window is broken I see my daughter searching for me pretending she can't hear the ghosts my inner child is smiling her teeth glinting in the dark you have already lost her no, I say lost is when you don't bother searching anymore I climb through the broken window cutting my legs on the glass it is dark and I am bleeding the ghosts surround her in the distance I hear her calling for me in her mind I am coming, I reply the darkness swallows every step I take her light keeps calling more spirits my inner child sits sullenly in the basement wondering why no one did that for her my daughter has her headphones on trying to drown out the noise that quiet brings she is in a stranger's house I wonder if I am already dead she looks in my direction I am here, I say mommy is back
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AuthorMichelle Tinklepaugh Archives
June 2023
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