In the end I call you
dark as spit, corrupting
intuition, bringing sickness
to a child’s mind, dragging her
by the feet through your everglade
of grasping demons, blotting out
her dreams and prayers, corroding her
At this end, weak and wispy,
your form is residue, your power,
only a dispelling illusion, nothing
against the greatness of love.
I will give you forgiveness,
no more warring
with your bloody dominance,
lacerating you, lacerating me – a war
of equal ferocity and destruction.
Our interdependence is broken.
The umbilical cord
between us, dissolved.
You are now a stranger.
I bless you and send you
blessed, on your way.
Copyright © 2022 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Raven Cage Zine #70” June 2022
You can listen to the poem by clicking below: