Day 3 / National Poetry Month 2018
- Susan Fekete
- Apr 4, 2018
- 1 min read
I still love poetry, day 3. Today's prompt had to do with remembering the first time one was defiant. This is where it led me. . .
“Shit.”
I said it.
The kitchen floor was filthy with my disgust
and I ran
to hide.
Girls don’t.
Children shouldn’t.
Such words.
Even now
I wonder
was it the word
or the lie it called out
that surprised you so.
I erupted at five
and my hot lava mouth
pours forth
still
no no no no no
to burn
what would have me abide
what would hold me confined
what would mark me untrue
Forty-five years are gone
My father is dead
I say what I will
and still
all lies
are shit
to me.
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