kels(dot)blog

today I was eight years old again.

I can tell because the sun was shining,

glinting through the trees, and in the distance

a dog played with his owner, chasing a stick.

two bicycles left leaned against a tree

while the children ran for ice cream

and laughed and laughed

like eight year olds.

and today I was eight years old again.

I can tell because the sun was shining,

glinting through the trees, and in the distance

between my shoulders, in my sternum and running

cold across my neck was rage,

hatred, malice and ire.

I notice it now, and we call it the monster.

Almost fucking strangled a stranger, but at least

at least

it wasn’t my daughter.