Morten Oddvik CC
I don’t want to hate my mother
I don’t want to bite my nails
Both so disgustingly soothing
The relief comes on a sliding scale
Which is the immovable object?
Which is the unstoppable force?
What happens if I quit?
What happens to that pain?
Where will my badge of honor live?
Who will I have to blame?
There are plenty of ways to cope
But this coping is making me frail
I want to caress my mother’s face
With baby blue painted nails
What happens when I cannot find the female rage?
And if I still cater to the male gaze
Where do I go?
Where is my table?
What do I do when I go through hell
But my hands are still soft to the touch
When I have the stories
But no visible scars to prove it
If when I’m through with it
I’m still in it
How many ticks must I have
To prove this is bad
Rather how much do I scream
I don’t know how to be mean
I want to be mean
Do you know what I mean?
Can I still feel seen
Without being in a scene
But there is only protagonist and antagonist
And I am in between
I once read “I envy those who stayed kind”
But what about those that envy the soured
The ones whose words spread like fire
So that all they’re left with is ash from their power
I am left with everything
My kindness, my consideration
And I want none of it
I want to bring storms
But it rarely rains in Southern California
And when it does, it feels like it’s never enough
Never enough rain
Never enough rage
It feels like a monsoon inside of me
But I’m lucky to get a single cloud
Maybe some wish for this weather
But whether I like it or not
I can’t control the weather
But what if I could
I can try
Jesse Rae Keener (She/Her) is a twenty something queer poet starting the journey of her publishing career whilst caring for children as her day job. She is an avid jeopardy watcher, dedicated thrifter and daily crier about the beauties and tragedies life affords us all. You can find her work on her Instagram @swag_girl_jesse_.
Write something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview.