judgement day
cw: parental issues / intergenerational trauma
all the ways in which i am like my mother? i clean when i wish to be cleansed after every touch from this ungainly world and i think i am the only one who can sacrifice myself for the greater good and i will judge, kind but absolute
and my father? i ruminate into the night, long and drawn like a never-ending sigh that empties my lungs and i fold myself in half with all the weight i carry of every mistake i ever made and i will judge, stern and envious
i am turning into them i am exactly like them i look in the mirror and i see my own judgement above me like a guillotine how do i set down the gavel of these voices?
i spin my thoughts into webs of poetry and with an exhale, like with a dandelion, blow them away, up into the darkened ceiling to form invisible constellations so i may feel like a blank slate again at least for a brief moment