trust exercise
CW: implied self-harm
Mom came to visit My last week in Williamsburg I asked the landlord For an extra heater Tucked away the things She wouldn’t want to see In return, she washed the fruit by William Zhuang And boiled water on the stove. Together we filled the room With conversations we’ve already had Pretended not to hear What laid unspoken in silence Nights before this I slept with a tension She had stood between Neither of us dared to display Kept the knife off my skin Crouched on the top bunk Yet she held her blade I heard her breathing Against my trust since I heard the stress in her chest In defense, my body went Frozen in paranoia Today I came clean to her My mind armored Naked, armor shed Reminders trained into habits She traced over the scars she gave Until the skin under Felt just smooth enough I wanted nothing in exchange But for her to do the same Shed the last layer of metal Show me the trust I need
art | Newt Gordon-Rein fh 19
