unwanted inheritance

[i grew up with an extremely abusive mother — a woman with sadistic tendencies, who seemed to take pleasure in my pain. and no matter how many years pass, i carry her rotten corpse with me. it‘s the inheritance i never asked for, the shadow i was born into, the weight that clings because it was my first home.]

i don’t often think of the blows,

or the words that cut like wire.

not the shouting,

not the silence.

but her curses still run in my veins —

quiet as poison,

faithful as blood.

they know where to find me.

they know the sound of my footsteps,

the shape of my shadow.

no matter how many turns i take,

they follow — patient, relentless.

i run through years and cities,

through new names for joy,

but they always catch me.

and when they do,

they do not seize —

they pull.

back into the cold,

back into the water,

back into the place i swore

i would never drown in again.

— Lux