you are not in wonderland ➵ poems

the art of a band-aid heart

The day is bright. The road, clear.

I was born in a place where light
often did not reach; I was swallowed
by shadows and bruises and the
span of my wings could not grow.
I tried to fly when I was young and
had too much hope in the world:
at my wingspan's depression, the
sky did not love me; and in my lonely
fall I wondered if I could break the
ground's anchors; if I could burn the
tether that stilled my movements.

There was a line I drew in the mud with
a stick that curves like the shape of
a rib; one like how I - he - broke mine
two months prior: a wound though
perhaps unfresh, sought a sting at
its memory. And then winter came;
all the hurt beneath cotton on my skin,
all the cold nights spent on the floor,
all the happiness around me I never had -
I remember everything; I tried to forget,
but with constant reminders, the thorn
in my side, it was undoable: I could
not be rid of the biting truth, no, never.
The word 'help' remained trapped
inside my throat, graved on my lips,
a shout I couldn't utter to anyone
but myself - pity made me sick; so
anxiety made me fall silent, bar
the whisperings I uttered at night:
"I don't know what I'm gonna do."

You're sat next to me, eyes fixated as you
let me drive your car. I tell you this story;
teeth biting lips like a late protest
of what he did to me all that time ago -
your strange way of squeezing my hand
in comfort like a normal couple might.

I used to be bad at sewing, but I grew
used to stitching myself together
again whenever I fell apart. Seldom
did I let tears stain my cheeks
much longer; in the dead of night,
I wished upon a star like it held all
the hope in the universe. But it did not -
illusions shattered coldly, bluntly, so I
worked. I could've wrote a sonnet with a
pen fashioned from the blood on my skin -
a real killer fairytale, ready to poison the kids.
I carried the weight of my troubles out
to sea, hoping they'd turn into a boat,
but they became my anchor; and he
waited, watching as they started drowning
me. I thought I knew how evil the world
could be, yet I was foolish to've believed.

The sun starts to set. I park the car
on the side of the road. You take
my hand in yours and kiss me like
there's no tomorrow, like we're invincible,
like I'm worth more than just him.
We drive home; "I love you," unsaid.