six-year-old me, jumps from one patch of dry land to the next,
alongside my four-year-old brother/part time sister "lucie"
we are sweaty as we avoid crocodile invested waters, the roots of my hair natural, the rest relaxed; i am dressed in a flannel button down and brimming with glee
in walks, my father – the polar opposite to a child –
he does not see the crocodiles, or the survivors this (imaginary) world has made of his children.
he sees a warzone (of a living room), he sees his cross-dressing son and his daughter acting like a boy; he sees something to be ashamed of.
my brother is the first to stop, as i shove him into the deadly waters and let him succumb to the greatest predator of them all,
meanwhile i continue; my father is simply another monster i have to survive. i have managed so far, with my wits and my resilience
it is not until, enough time passes, he screams for me to stop and i do. chest heaving, dripping sweat
he asks what i am doing. what riot have i unleashed unto this house
so i respond: i'm a tomboy
and that day is the first time i am truly afraid of my father as he morphs into a beast even greater than the one he was moments before. he asks me, to repeat myself
(translation: this is your one only opportunity correct your mistake)
so i apologise and begin to tidy the living room
YOU ARE READING
the failings of a surgically healed heart | a collection
Thơ ca「 WATTYS 2019 WINNER 」 the failings of a surgically healed heart, is a series of autobiographical poems arranged into six thematic parts to form a collection which examines the idea of the collective and how that informs individual. i. family an exp...
