Speech Therapy


spiderI’ve been beating at the walls inside my brain
Looking for a way out.
I thought it’d be safer in here;
Like running upstairs
In a haunted house.

Every day is a slow burn
Trading in function for numbness.
Feeding a little more of myself
To the ghosts
Wandering these halls.

The poems I wrote,
About her,
Were never about her.
That was just me
Talking to myself.

And for all the talking I’ve done,
I’m not sure I ever had anything to say…
Except for the part about being tired and hurting.
I meant that.

I know I’ve birthed light into their dark.
I had hoped to keep them safe
From the darkness choking out my heart.

Most days when asked if I’m alright,
I lie.
Tell them
Everything is fine;
I’m-I’m just tired.

I never speak up.
I don’t speak about the old ghosts,
Burned down homes,
The faces in the mirror staring back at me,
How scared I am.

And y’all

I am scared.

So yeah,
I’m not okay.
I’m scared.
I just
I just wish I knew why.


About St Basil Z Fish

Curator of the strange and incredibly awkward. A rambling writer with the misguided notion he has something to say. His only redeeming qualities are his wife and children.
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