s/o to the smudging sage at the office of the therapist who made me give a detailed list of my sexual history as a teenage girl then invited me to take peyote with him in oklahoma as long as i didn't tell my parents
s/o to the lavender scented candle i roasted a hot link over one of the times my mom didn't pay our electric bill because she spent it all on alcohol
s/o to the seafoam green towel i used to wipe the cum off of me after you wouldn't stop fucking me when i asked you to stop fucking me
s/o to the bathtub in the loft apartment in dallas that i sat on while i held my transitioning transgender father while she cried
s/o to the bars of irish spring the mice would chew in your old apartment, the smell of them now floods me with visions of your lifeless body
s/o to the microfiber blanket you were folding the moment you realized that you've been making excuses your whole life for the people you love treating you like garbage because you don't want to believe that their love has always been conditional, destructive, and in very short supply.
Claudia Speck is an East Coast transplant from Texas, an aspiring writer, a social justice advocate, and amateur naturalist who is currently working on a series of poems about grief and loss.