Literature
I am the daughter of a sailor.
There is pure sea water
rushing through my veins
& my vocabulary can be
just as colorful.
But,
how do I begin to tell you
we all have jungles growing
& growling
in our chests?-
Wild, fierce,
untouchable
by human hands?
Sometimes,
I like to pretend
it’s Draco residing
in this chest of mine-
his smoke
clogging my lungs,
choking &
suffocating me.
I have forgotten
how to write
poetry-
or anything with a shred
of feeling.
I have no space left within myself
for celestial, fire breathing dragons-
because I realize now
when I look in the mirror,
I do not see my father.