I’m too tired
dear one
to refute your love of harm
or as you put it
hard but necessary truth
just as Swedish bitters are
good for you
spare the rod, spoil the child
so you ensured I learned the hard way
why then
do criticisms often taste
like gunpowder?
that overwhelming urge to correct at every turn
just like you were created to hurt?
what line, invisible or seen, exists?
to guide the critic in their pursuit
of picking apart the flaw
remaking anew and improved
you can do better
was my Christian name
you need to apply yourself more
the nightly prayer
and being absent
my response
you see
tear someone down consistently and enough?
you light them on fire
they become not as you hoped
your obedient (but inferior) acolyte
but something fragmented
a faulty firework longing to explode
earthbound and simmering beneath
your superior

0 Replies to “The growing chronicles #1 Bitters”

  1. Heart breaking. Makes me think of all the foster children moved from one home to another. One suffering like this is forever damaged, no matter how old they may be. Wounds on their hearts and soul which never heal. Thank you !

  2. Your poetry often makes me speechless, first because you are a master writer; and more important is the content. That you went through so much emotional abuse appalls me and I just want to reach out and heal the hurt. You have such a beautiful soul in spite of it all – I admire your strength and your ability to transmute your past into the most amazing poetry. Sending love to you dear Candice. ❤️💕

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