SAMARA JENNINGS

RELEASE

I clenched my fragile hands within the flood

heart synced to the rhythm 

of a mechanical beast calling

outside my room.

heave, heave 

the walls of my bedroom compresses

then breaths

I am not ready.

but right now, 

I am the colour of the sunset on any given night,

a long-awaited flower;

blooms once in a blue moon.

I am a perfectly crafted key

turning in the lock of this body.

feel her hands melt

like a warm blanket over soft skin,

my toes poking an impression on her. 

mother, 

I have no pressures

deadlines

reputations.

I am not ready

to release.

INNOCENCE

ice cream

dripping down

my wrists

belly bulging

out of my dotted cozzie

rainbow sprinkles and crumbs of wafer

cover like patchwork,

sticky and shameless.

back when it never occurred to me

to hide this rumbling cave, 

shrink down and fit flat against bones.

I miss when

indulgence 

didn’t feel like a sin.

THE GLASS CHILD

the youngest of six

the sibling of someone with multiple disabilities

another with addiction.

my glass house was built young. 

enforced diamond prism,

perfect design; difficult to shatter. 

my first memory occurs in a waiting room

filled with children perched on parents laps.

their tender hands leading

racing around bead mazes,

books made into dreams

from just cloudy whispers.

limbs sprawled in my glass cage,

parents and sister behind a distant reality

a flood of bitterness plugged my throat 

‘gulp down, sweet patient child’

I hold the weight of a balanced home on my glass frame, 

hold the smoke not inhaled, 

hold feelings not felt,

following all rules without fail.

It doesn’t change the fact that my mother has a great eye

and I just wished that one time

she would use it to look at my glass house.

THE BEAST BEHIND THE SCREEN

To S.A

the day before I turned thirteen

a man came into my life

wrapped me up with pretty words,

fed my starved body with affection.

despite us living in different countries

the man behind the screen was in love with me.

on my fourteenth birthday

you sent lingerie in size extra small

and you excavated the foundation of my adolescent body

ripped out the roots and stems of my identity 

replanted seeds of poison ivy

that I could never scrub off.

my puppy love

was an illusion I thought was my fault.

but beasts like you can smell invisible girls.

yet my inner child is still afraid 

of spitting your crawling secrets.

never again will I go in public 

without fearing seeing you

as you once promised you would see me.