Feelings Aren’t Insects
Just when I thought I couldn’t feel any worse, my mom’s accusatory words cut into my soul like shrapnel. Her words embedded themselves in my heart and mind: “You don’t know how to be happy.” Sometimes she delivered the extended version, her lip curled in...
The Goodbye I Never Said Out Loud
Trigger Warning: This guest post contains sensitive material that may be distressing for some readers. It includes themes related to childhood trauma, including sexual abuse, as well as emotional pain, memory, and recovery. A poem within the post reflects on these...
Scrubbed Innocence: Resurrecting My Words and Worth
Trigger Warning: Detailed Description of Child Abuse I wrote this poem a few months ago, drawing from the well of ancient, long-buried feelings about the first time my mom forced my mouth open and poured Dawn dish soap into it. I was four. Although I had received...