i carry the weight
of a broken family guilt
it sits between my shoulders
and bends my neck
so all i can see is
the path ahead
and my hands and feet and
legs and arms, pushing
pushing this boulder
up your hill
the hill to you
the hill i’ve decided to die on
© Evey Hammond
i got too used to you
singing your sweet words to me
whispering your promises of forever love
and taking care of me
but i don’t think you mean them anymore
and maybe you never did
if this isn’t forever, then I want farewell
i am willing to hear the lullabies that fall
from other lips that will kiss mine
if yours keep breaking promises
and let me down, over and over again
© Evey Hammond
when you’re here, it often feels
like you aren’t or don’t want to be
i know you made what you think
were good choices at the time
and now you’re filled with regret
don’t bother trying to hide it
don’t acknowledge it unless you’re
leaving again, like i expect you will
if you ever get the chance
and i will keep reminding myself
you were never mine to lose
i will white flag our future
eventually
things change in an instant
i want you to marry me
but all it takes is knowing you lied
and now i don’t know who you are to me
we were fixing something broken
i thought we were doing great – I thought
things were better than ever
but i guess not
there is nothing okay about lying to me
there is hardly anything worse you could do
to erode trust and erase love with a selfish
stupid lie
you stupid, selfish liar
there’s nothing more imporant to you
than getting what you want
at anyone’s expense
All these years later
and I still feel like a little girl,
hiding in a copse of trees
while I’m kissing my boyfriend,
like it’s something not okay.
Meanwhile, he convinces himself
that it is okay – or he doesn’t,
in which case no matter what happens,
if he stays or if he goes,
I’m still going to be
hiding in the leaves
waiting
for the right person
to find me.
© Copyright WildPreciousEvey
Involution
We started wrapped tight together,
our love a bud, blooming,
but of course, we all know flowers die.
We reached for the sun anyway,
stretched our stems and tried for the sky,
and now we’re folding in on ourselves,
maybe dying, maybe having potential
to keep dying and blooming again.
But what use is a flower standing
dead in a garden? What is the point
if all you have is hope
and even that looks decayed?
So we must remember:
Everything dies eventually.
Copyright Evey Hammond
On NextDoor, my neighbors are arguing
their right to read deleted comments.
“You’re crushing free speech!” they say,
without understanding the penumbra.
The right to free speech does not
extend to reading what others cut away –
only to saying or writing or doing
what doesn’t break the law,
but will get you to your point.
Just admit you are here to argue.
Admit you are here to say what you want
and feel the need to say.
Admit you don’t care what other people think,
and keep speaking.
You can call me Evey Hammond.
I am a poet struggling to find and hold on to all the beauty in this shithole world.
I swear a lot.
I look sweet on the outside but I’m a real bitch when you get to know me.
It will take me a while to find my process here.
Then, this will be gone, replaced for something better.
“About Me” posts suck, don’t they?
But I don’ t have to give you much.
I am a mysterious poet, after all.