Timmy In the Well – a poem

I wish I could be seen with eyes
that know the reason why
I hide my smiles behind
questions I leave unanswered.
So you think you have
the knowledge of my spheres,
when I have buried so deeply
the things I love about myself
to keep them safe, to keep them mine.

I think I remain alone
so no one finds the pathway
through the labyrinth, the hedges
of superficial vulnerability
I install so no one sees just how
far my aching runs, how dark
it is in the permafrost I brick
around my heart; so no one
ever sees how hard I try
to be happy.

Brought To You By Powdermilk Biscuits

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” they say,
their hands poised to slap me.
I know they think I’ll fight back,
but I won’t.
I gave up years ago
when my father left us
for the theatre
(I think that’s what we called it)
and I let the fight in me
go with him
because he’d need it
to get me to love him again.

Disclaimer: this is not about my actual father