They’re Killing Her

old-hands

They’re screaming again.
He and her on the verge of trading blows;
Standing on the razor edged mouth
Of a volcano
Bubbling,
Boiling,
Begging to erupt.

She drowns helplessly in a sea of blankets
Weeping rivers and ghosts,
Wanting more than anything
To find her voice,
To speak up,
To tell them both
To get the fuck out.

But already,
So long ago,
They had robbed her of her tongue,
Divided it among themselves,
So it would be they
Who spoke for her.
Because they
In their tiny hearts
Knew what was best
For the cancer
Inside her bones.

In another room,
Bearing weight of the world
Upon malnourished shoulders,
Baptized in an ocean of grief,
She held her tongue
Between polished stones,
Filling her mouth
With the taste of copper.

Tortured.
Grief stricken.
Her mother was dying.
Diagnosed with cancer,
But she knew
It was the storms,
The falling skies,
The neglect,
The silence,
And his voice
Cracking every shell
On the egg white walls,
Killing her mother.

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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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1 Response to They’re Killing Her

  1. J.S. Mueller says:

    You steal my breath, man.

    “She drowns helplessly in a sea of blankets
    Weeping rivers and ghosts…”

    “…Bearing weight of the world
    Upon malnourished shoulders,
    Baptized in an ocean of grief…”

    You are an awesome poet. I will pre-order your first collection of poems. Just do it!

    Liked by 1 person

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