malignant dystopia
Linda M. Crate
i wish i could say
your lust
didn’t destroy me
like i wish i could say
my father’s absence in my
life didn’t matter
or my stepfather didn’t shatter
an already broken heart
with all his pain and rage,
but none of these things is true;
yet like the phoenix
i rose from the ashes of the person
that once i was to rise again
with brilliant new flames—
it was hard to fly for the longest time,
but now i remember flight;
and putting the past behind me
isn’t so hard a task some days but others i fly into
memories of you and i thick and curling
as the most stubborn ivy—
yet i know i will not always be tethered to the
song of your bitter death
one day my dreams will split you down the middle
where the nightmares will cease to grow,
and no longer shall your monsters mate;
then you will see the consequence
of love and light magic
working against the dark of your malignant dystopia.
