Poetry by Beth Mulcahy

                     ​ricky shore CC



greyhound friends

we were going the same direction
from different places
i want to be a writer
she knows how to drive a rig
i always get zits before i go home
her nose is a little crooked because of him hitting her
i am going home to see my love
she left hers because of how he hit her
i am the baby of my family
she was her daddy’s favorite until he died
i have clerical experience
she modeled lingerie to save money to help him get better
my dad got better
hers died before she could get to him
i carry mace i am too scared to use
she could kick my ass if she wanted to
i chose to sit by her because she was a woman
going my direction

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Friendly Fire

the way i see it 
there is a gap 
between what it should be 
and what it is
between what we have
and what we should have
when someone sees you
the way he sees me
it should be enough

but it never seemed to be
enough
to keep the hurt away
over and over again
i know that wasn’t really him
and it wasn’t anything i did
it was the war 
that reared itself 
that lashed out of him
and onto me
the war he kept fighting
the war he never won

i surveyed the landscape of his eyes
every time
to find the spaces
through which the mortar
might come flying
i approached with caution
my eyes and heart both wide open
i only knew how to defend myself
with stoic silence and apologetic tears
for having done nothing 
to deserve the shrapnel
friendly fire
is still fire

distance became safer
and i learned to take cover
when i went awol
he retreated
and couldn’t find a way
to reach me anymore
he may not have known who the enemy was
but it isn’t me
it never was

i widened the gap between us to survive
and as the years went on
a buffer zone
now demilitarized 
no access to any exposure
i can’t risk anymore wounds
now there’s only time
for peace and healing
someday, maybe soon
he will be gone
he wasn’t the only one here
wounded by that war
and i have to tell him now
with my heart wide open that
I love him anyway
that it’s all ok
I love him anyway
over and out

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Beth Mulcahy is a Gen X-er from Michigan, living  in Ohio where she works for a company that provides technology to people without natural speech. Beth loves to travel and write poetry, fiction, and memoir. She has work in Bombfire Literary Magazine, Trouvaille Review, The Fiery Scribe, and Potato Soup Journal. Check out her most recent publications at https://linktr.ee/mulcahea
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