Depression

I can’t remember
when my voice climbed up
the ladder of my spine
to hide in this dusty attic
of my mind.

Downstairs,
a ghost runs with my legs,
smiles in my jewelry,
and charges me
rent I can not afford

so I give it pieces of me to eat
scoop by scoop
it carves them out
of my flesh like
a ripe avocado

until I am
rotting skin and hallow bones
complete emptiness at least
is quiet but I’m tired
of letting you take away all I have

so I rebel with nails
that vandalize my walls until
blood drips down my arms
forming the graffiti
my friends find so distasteful

as if they all agree
I am your property
my body doesn’t belong to me
and I am not welcome
in its walls

but I’m not scared of Séances anymore
so I use my voice as a
a key to unlock the attic door and with that,
you flee underneath the floorboards
and for the first time,

I run with my legs,
smile in my jewelry,
and though you will always be
lurking here, I will never let myself
feel like a stranger in my body.

 

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About RebeccaFionna

Poetess and Dragon goddess since 1992
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