Poetry

Dad

inkycapnip

04 Aug 2025 — 1 min read

You were supposed to teach me how to swim
Instead you held my head underwater
Salt clogged up my lungs
Slowed my circulation
Hands stay cold
Devoid

Whirlpools in my chest suck the life out of everything
But my heart still fell in love
Ripped from the sun
Through crashing waves
I learned to love the light
Swirly shapes of diluted light
I kept cloudy eyes on the light

I was willing to die
Just for one moment
Peeking over the waves
Let me burn in harsh sunlight
Maybe that's why I like to set things on fire
Endless crackling desire
It's never enough
I'm never satisfied
I will never be satisfied
Until I finally come alive

Black holes don't deserve to survive
as long as they pull the light from stars
who all along
deserved to thrive

I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR MENTAL HEALTH

how could you say that to me? I have a really bad memory. He doesn't like to behave. He sifts and sieves through information I do not care about, but when it comes to everything I love, he turns into a steel trap. I still remember. The smell

I was raised by an artist

Black and white pictures hang on the walls Curdling talent Secrets unsung Knuckle stains from her brawl The blood in her mind covers scribbles in oil Rip out my whimsy Poison my lungs Remains willingly toil A gift from the ocean Colorful silks Mechanical oil Magic grows sick Package me

Mom

It's never too late Your hair may be turning gray The moon shines brighter through the beauty of your age Will we really be estranged? Your love saved my life Am I not allowed to repay? I will cherish my wife Don't make me run away

A Pretty Big Secret

Would you hold my hand when I tell you this? I love you. These words are insufficient. I desire you. I want you. I fixate on every detail. You are the most special of my interests. I'm cooking in the pressure of these urges, an endless tide eroding

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I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR MENTAL HEALTH

I was raised by an artist

Mom

A Pretty Big Secret