32B32A

My eyes swiped left.

My gaze zoomed in.

My lashes batted twice.

Curiosity became my hand.

I reached behind the colors.


I go find my original belongings, 

as I took off the one 

that wasn't mine.


Gray.

That is all I can see.

The clouds and the storms that follow.


I can't unsee.

I can't unhear.

I can't unreel myself from the touch of its cotton.


Lashes of accusation, 

if I purposely searched 

for the forgotten.


It wasn't there before.

It is like my body chose to find it.


"It is worthless at this point..."


The target is me.


Like open-toed shoes

and realizing that too late

your feet,

 are part of the conversation.


Like adolescence

arriving on your chin.

thinking it deserves

a future.


The smell of Doritos is all that matters,

the smell of my blood 

that spills wastes away.


Reader,

May you never learn what curiosity costs.


May you never see what your eyes never searched to see.

May you never hear what your ears don't wish to hear.

May you never feel what you never want to touch.

May you never smell what you don't want to feel burn in your nostrils.

May you never taste the murderous words of the in-between of soft lips.

Or the yellow brick road wrapped around the wrist. 


May comfort always recognize you-

a couch that keeps its shape,

chips passed back and forth,

Salt tears shared without score.


May sweetness follow your tears

and lead you home-

three taps of red, borrowed heels.


May you be chosen-

the bigger slice,

the better seat,

the dessert saved

because someone thought of you.


May animals trust you.

May families widen for you.


May night meet you gently:

soft pillow, warm weight,

and the lost sock returned-

the one you actually like.


May alcohol meet you honestly-

enough to loosen grief,

or let it speak,

never enough to erase you.


And when the world feels sharp,

May life offer you

small, unnecessary kindness-

warm food,

found money,

candles that flicker.


Truly, may you always get the desires of your heart.

This, I ask for you, so you may never be shocked.

So you may never be hurt.


It is not luck.

It is not a manifestation.

It is not prayer.


It is simply words coming from the current posture of a challenged heart.




This poem explores the moment when curiosity leads to an irreversible awareness, one that turns inward and becomes self-accusation. The speaker describes discovering something painful that they did not actively seek but now cannot unsee, hear, or undo. Ordinary details and bodily sensations emphasize how harm can coexist with everyday life, and how blame often settles on the self.


In response to this wound, the poem shifts into a tender, almost desperate blessing for the reader- wishing them safety, gentleness, and small, sustaining kindness so they never have to endure the same shock or loss of innocence. The closing rejects easy explanations like luck, manifestation, or prayer, framing the poem instead as words spoken from a heart that has been deeply challenged and is offering protection through honesty.



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