The Detours of the Mind

A Note To Survivors

Maggie Bowyer
2 min readSep 1, 2022

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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!

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Maggie Bowyer

Freelance writer. UNGODLY, WHEN I BLEED: POEMS ABOUT ENDOMETRIOSIS and more