Did you ever wonder why I had to be drunk

every time

you touched me, I shrunk.

You knew, so you’d pour me a glass,

perhaps you thought I was shy

enough to want to black out

before we fuck



You pull me into this embrace and whisper

‘Relax, hug me..’

And I wrap my arms around your back

But they’re made of lead and they hang


I try to breathe but the air

is thick in my lungs like molasses.

So I stand there, airless and stiff in your enormous arms.

I swallow the lump in my throat, full of hatred;

and smile, my teeth so faintly grinding

and think of my treasure.

Oh, how I love him and how I

hate myself

because the pain that I swallow and hold

on the end of my fingers,

it falls on his hair and his fragile skin,

it sets on his long dark lashes when his eyes grow big

and he wonders why

Mummy is sad again

Mummy is angry again.

Why she never cries…..


I remember the words now, the ones my mother used to sing, half asleep, while she rocked me in her weary arms. And it took too long to drift off, and it felt as if she were dying. I’d place my ear on her chest and listen; she lives.

And she slept for so long, all the dolls were bored of their new dresses. And there were no book with pictures left, no more crayons. Was I hungry? Was I afraid? I’d place my ear on her chest and listen; she lives.

‘Un’te duci tu, mielule? / La pasune, domnule. / Ce sa faci tu, mielule? / Sa pasca iarba, domnule/



Oh! If she could have it all again she could work harder, she could sleep less, or listen more;

Oh! If she could have it all again she would hold you! She would freeze time at the age when you still cried to be held, because the pain of hurting you is sharper than any blow she would happily take, if only to not see the sorrow in your eyes anymore..