8/1/2023 Poetry by Jesse KeenerMorten Oddvik CC
Softening 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 Weathered 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 Should I? 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_. Comments are closed.
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