Things you’d only tell your mother in a foreign language
By maggyvaneijk
- 5998 reads
It’s ten o’clock on a Friday night.
You’re pulling hard on my shoulder blades
like you’re trying to open me up.
Tiny bones of fear block my throat
and the wind sucks greedily on my hair.
I arch back, to let the worst flood in.
Remember when our feet met
beneath a cubical door?
Shuffling a pregnancy test
in an abandoned receipt.
Back when safe sex meant
swallowing 2 litres of Pepsi
after midnight.
Remember when you held my ponytail?
When too much tequila
forced me out of myself
and I mounted
the streetlight behind our house.
Can you picture it?
The one that made everyone glow like day old piss.
This is my mind, formerly quiescent,
bringing up memories until
my eyes go red. Sometimes I punch
myself in the nose
just to clear my head.
You and I, we fought them all:
loveless adolescents
and deadbeat dads.
We ran
fast
and sometimes
we stopped
not to catch our breath
but to look behind
to see how everyone else
stood frozen by our speed.
I never want to fall asleep
my fingers wrap around your wrist
to feel your pulse
hammering out the proof.
Because life is just a taking away
slow, the way the sun slips out of the sky
and spit trickles down a wall.
I’ll settle for being afraid
for being tongue-tied until we untie
until we break.
I just want to be
where you are. Always.
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Comments
The only thing that I don't
The only thing that I don't like about your work is that you don't post is regularly enough! Lol. This is excellent poetry Maggy. And even better for the edit that you've given it. The first two lines really set the whole thing off.
The stanza that begins "you and I" brings a super contrast in terms of rhythm and pace which I greatly admire. The final four stanzas are pitch perfect. Well done, it's so nice to see you around. Don't leave it too long.
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I love your poetry always
I love your poetry always beautiful and brutal in equal measure. I havent been on this site for ages, reading this reminds me not to stay away to long.
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breathtakingly beautiful
breathtakingly beautiful language - pleasepost more often maggy!
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Broken up and deeply touched
Broken up and deeply touched in equal measures.Such control over your language - gets more sparing as it goes to make your point. Stunning poetry. Wow and Zers.
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Delicate eloquence coupled
Delicate eloquence coupled seamlessly with fractured detachment while sifting through the driftwood of growing pains, knocking ourselves out to make sense of grievances past - these are only some of the hallmarks that set your poetry apart. If Iris from Taxi Driver ever got out of her messy adolescence, and I'm sure she would have, her steadfast nonchalance and super intuition to follow her own path without deviation would be my preferred voice for all your work, but finding an actress of the same stature as Jodie Foster these days may be a tough call. I'm always drawn to remind myself that experiential adversity is the strongest maker of humankind when I read your work, without exception.
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Wonderful imagery. There's
Wonderful imagery. There's something raw about the writing of this that draws the emotions. Very special.
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I'd forgotten how good you
I'd forgotten how good you are Maggy, this is terrific.
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Conrats on pick of the day,
Conrats on pick of the day, Maggy. You dazzle, as always.
Rich
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Not much to add to all the
Not much to add to all the above, Maggy. Your poetry is just awesome.
Linda
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'and the wind sucks greedily
'and the wind sucks greedily on my hair' - a really great line. This is a moving piece, for all its stark reality and honesty. Well written. A much enjoyed read. Thanks.
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Loved the images of the first
Loved the images of the first stanza and the way you've captured your breakaway thoughts whilst someone else is lost in something else.
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