Em's Poetry

I know I am meant to be swept out to sea, one piece at a time. How generous, the sea is, to call me home despite my sharp edges. How generous she is to accept me when we take so much from her.

I’m not sad. I just need to hear the birds sing.

In another universe, my father’s mental illness doesn’t become my own.

In another universe, I don’t inherit my mother’s generational trauma.

In another universe, I am 8, laying on the trampoline at sunset. The tree leaves rustle in the wind and slowly, fireflies begin to glow above me. I have so much time, but it doesn’t scare me.

In another universe, I don’t run from my home, but to it.

In another universe, my grandmother is still alive.

In another universe, school makes me excited instead of scared.

In another universe, my childhood dog is still alive. Her snout is greying, but she still plays with our younger dog so we think she has plenty of time left. And she does.

In another universe, I don’t have to be the one that saves me.

In another universe, my poetry isn’t sad.

In another universe, I’m living in a white farmhouse on a few acres of land with my partner. We grow our own vegetables and there are fruit trees scattered around the property. We spend our days tending to the land and taking care of our animals.

In another universe, he never touched me.

In another universe, I don’t worry about making my mom proud. I know she is.