i swear
honestly, i wanted you to be honest
then your truth ripped the seam
of my hope and security
your truth cracked the center
of my comfort and certainty
honestly, i wanted you to be honest
i just forgot, i guess
that your truth wouldn’t be
what i ever wanted to hear
honestly, it is better
that your honesty
break the balance of my heart
than pretend
to be something
you honestly can’t
the truth is,
i asked for the truth.
the ripping, biting, seething
tearing, bitter, cold,
lost truth
real tears and cracks
are better than false seams.
honestly, i wanted you to be honest
February
I wanted this love to bloom
through the snow
winter, they say
makes you appreciate the sun
but the clouds are blinding
if you look at them too long
and the wind can make your heart so cold
you believe it will never be warm again
I wanted our love to bloom
through the winter
I wanted to be alive
when the sun came out
when the flowers came back
I wanted to be living
not trying to be born
Beth Mulcahy (she/her) is a Pushcart Prize-nominated poet and writer whose work has appeared in various journals, including Full House Literary and Roi Faineant Press. Her writing bridges the gaps between generations and self, hurt and healing. Beth lives in Ohio with her husband and two children and works for a company that provides technology to people without natural speech. Her latest publications can be found here: https://linktr.ee/mulcahea.
Punk Noir Press 