Sunflower seeds crawl between teeth and get stuck
in this perfectly timed world of ladders and shoots.
Oma and Opa quietly sit right next to each other while
watching the daily soap opera that unfolds its lies like
a blanket, numbing worries for now.
Fresh paint hides the cracks of old wallpaper and
a lullaby soothes late at night when that monster
slowly opens the closet door and haunts sleep.
The bed is made, the cuddly bear is waiting- alone-
in a home completely prepared for her to arrive.
Dwelling by the phone, wishing for a merciful pardon
for buried sins that stay left behind, unspoken.
Wanting to pray, so badly wanting to believe that
this fight can be won because this fight has to be won.
There is no other option, this heart needs to get stronger.
No other war has been more righteous and hope is
stubborn until the tide hits shore and washes away
the photograph of a new world. Her brave, fragile heart jumps
one last time and life quietly fades before it even begins.
She has a broken heart but her name is still a blank space.
A silly soap opera still plays in the background.
New wallpaper tries to console the immaculate room.
The phone moans a forlorn wish in vain
and every day is just another day without her.
The battle is over. Some wounds can never be licked dry.
Silke Feltz is a PhD Student in Rhetoric, Theory & Culture at Michigan Technological University. Besides writing and knitting socks for her charity, StreetKnits, she tries to shed light on the rhetoric of animals and animal rights.
My father sexually abused me.
When I got married,
I hyphenated my name.
No one questioned it at the time.
But in the middle of my parents’ late divorce,
everyone wants to know about names.
i was depressed,
and i wanted
to take a
you said you'd join me—
didn't mean i wanted
netflix and chill,
it happened before words came
to tell me how to feel about it
newly connected neurons torn apart
forever firing blanks into the microbiological air