I am not brave enough
to say your name out loud.
You took away my youth - the youth I never had.
to say your name out loud.
You took away my youth - the youth I never had.
You left me open/severed/vulnerable to life,
with no chance to dress my wounds.
With every day that passes - time shudders
through my bones / tearing at raw flesh.
I hide within myself – closing out all light.
You were darkness.
You were pain,
as you wrote yourself upon me,
in ink so black - it cried out for mercy.
Words will no longer form in my mouth.
I am mute to you / deaf to myself.
A lifetime is a long ride – but never long enough.
Next stop – Damnation!
Ann Christine Tabaka was nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry. She is the winner of Spillwords Press 2020 Publication of the Year, her bio is featured in the “Who’s Who of Emerging Writers 2020 and 2021,” published by Sweetycat Press. She is the author of 14 poetry books. lives in Delaware, USA. She loves gardening and cooking. Chris lives with her husband and four cats. Her most recent credits are: Sparks of Calliope; The Closed Eye Open, Poetic Sun, Tangled Locks Journal, Wild Roof Journal, The American Writers Review, The Scribe Magazine, The Phoenix, Burningword Literary Journal, Muddy River Poetry Review, The Silver Blade, Pomona Valley Review, West Texas Literary Review, The Hungry Chimera, Sheila-Na-Gig, Fourth & Sycamore.
*(a complete list of publications is available upon request)
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