The Detours of the Mind

A Note To Survivors

Maggie Bowyer


The following may be triggering for survivors.

If you relate to this piece, I am so sorry.

If you have moments that you wish more than anything you could forget, moments that you almost let slip away but then they come crashing back over you, I am sorry.

If you are afraid of your past, the present, those around you, the future, I am sorry.

If you were young and innocent and big-eyed and in like (that you thought was love), I am sorry.

If you trusted and if your faith was broken, I am sorry.

Detour Ahead
The laundry was piled
Past my forehead
On your dining room table.
You put a movie about
A stupid horse on TV
While we sat on your little sisters
Twin sized bed, too close
To be comfortable, silence.

He saw the clouds tumble
Over my face when I remembered
The sound of the washing machine
Mixed with the horse’s hooves.
I was reading some poem
That mentioned laundry,
And I know my memories should be
Squeaky clean by now
But somehow one line in a book
Transported me to a house
That had long been in a black hole -
How do you fold laundry
In space?

How do we get more space
Between us on this bed,
How do I get light-years
Away from your tongue
Down my throat?
How do I get back
To the right year?

Today’s poem is from my upcoming collection UNGODLY. If you enjoy my poetry, please consider shopping any of my poetry collections or other merchandise!



Maggie Bowyer