once i was 11 once i was a child once i was soft
i’m 11 & there is so much softness in me
my phone is a revolving door of men
from Kik who tell me so who ask me to
bare the softest parts of me to them
when all i want is a friend
to make me less lonely
i’m 11 & learning love from the quick chatter
of my parents voices going to battle inside of
a house cooled by fire
inside of me is a house cooled by fire
all of the men
i should not be talking to
on my phone hold the match
i’m an only child & want something other than
my parents love to satiate me
i’m searching for something
a void is in me but i’m young & soft
i don’t have a name for it but it’s silence haunts
me like the icy hands of that ice boy back
in second grade cornering me in his whiteness
any chance he could get putting his hands
in my pants at every opportunity or
her
one of the four other black girls in my grade i
called a friend
how she pinned me in a bathroom
stall during break demanding me to kiss her whole
i think they too were searching for
something their voids so open & deep
they started showing their trauma early on
knew the time & place to give it a name
my face must have been so soft
my ear the place they would
whisper that name into
yet i’m 11
& have forgotten what to call it,
it sticks to me like an unrecognizable
shadow whispering to me
years later as i’ve begun my adult years
yearning to banish it from this body
7 thoughts on "once i was 11 once i was a child once i was soft"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
this is flat out good writing
you take the reader into
your childhood
Brave exploration of childhood. Vivid writing.
Honest and lyric, thoughtful and evoking–so much here to pull and admire in your writing. “it sticks to me like an unrecognizable/shadow”
Such a strong piece–the title sets up the emotion evoked so well. I agree with all the above comments–this is a brave exploration so well composed. The last lines killed me.
This is absolutely haunting. And the way you repeat how you were soft is such a blow every time. Thank you for sharing this: I imagine it couldn’t have been easy.
Others have already pointed out what I like, great work!
There’s a thread throughout this poem about names and trying to figure out what to call thing, generic somethings or unrecognizable shadows that really sticks out to me. A lot of times, figuring out what exactly is hurting us and holding us back is a journey in itself, and I really appreciate you letting us in on it.