diary of a 20 something

it’s just dust 

what do i do

when you suck the grief from the room

i’ll be strong

but you’re wrong 

it’s not just you who’s misunderstood 

as if you could 

know what it’s like to lose a father 

they don’t either 

i don’t know what to say

me neither, but you asked me how i am and this is it 

i’m scared too 

for a future alone 

when you move from the place we call home

for the still air 

missing the jokes we use to fill it with 

i’ll even miss the television he played

but i won’t cry 

these aren’t tears, there’s just dust in my eye

---

the puppeteer

it’s time for bed

it’s time to eat

let’s watch more TV

when i’m with you 

i’m barely there 

but you’re here 

holding me in at the seams

stringing me up like a puppet

getting me from one day to the next

---

my wish

i’ve wished on every eyelash

all twenty-six of my candles

every penny in a fountain

each time i turned my necklace

for 12 months i’ve only wished for you

if i could have that i wouldn’t wish for anything ever again

---

the dam

it starts as a trickle

the dam breaks little by little 

swipe under my eye, attempting to patch it 

but the dam threatens to let the crack win 

maybe if i stay still, it will hold 

bargaining

don’t look, don’t even think

i freeze

the pressure builds and i can’t hold the weight 

the crack is just enough for me to break 

it splinters, i scream

it rushes, i shake

it gushes, i gag

there’s no stopping the flood