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:

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