Author Archives: M. Ford

About M. Ford

Meaghan Ford is a writer from New Jersey who fell in love with the big city shit. She's a member of the 2014 Boston Poetry Slam at the Cantab Lounge team. Meaghan is a member of the Write Bloody family, a 2013 Exploding Pinecone semi-finalist, and represented Port Veritas at the 2014 Women of the World Poetry Slam. Some of her work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Orange Room Review, Danse Macabre, and the We Will Be Shelter Anthology. Like all good punk girls, she carries a knife.

Three Poems – M. Ford

lit_match


Match Heads

Dear Brother,
Our family has a language that I do not
have the tongue for.
	Don't say junkie,
Say I don't remember what you look like sober.
Say I remember finding the needle sunk into your arm
but not if your eyes are more hazel than mud,
if they look like mine.
Everyone says I look just like you
	like it is a compliment,
	like it does not make me repulsed by my own skin.

I have let myself wonder if you are a husk,
a remorseless thing
but then you would not need 
to numb whatever it is that you feel.
	What do you feel brother?
Don't say you put the staple gun to my face
my body in the clothes dryer		and turned it on.
Don't say you killed our pet. 
I saw you close its throat in the cabinet door. 

But I was raised a closed mouth
and all of the words I am not allowed to say
are swarming inside of my throat.
I am mad at you brother
but we don't say blame.
	Say relapse, say treatment.
	Say family, support, coming together 
like a rope around your throat.
	Don't say choking
this house is full of smoke but we're all dancing around the fire of you
pretending it's a celebration
and not the longest funeral.
You just keep dragging match heads across your tongue,
flicking them into the parlor.
	You burning man.
	You blood mouth.

Sometimes,
when I am feeling generous,
I wonder if you go looking for your own undoing.
if you have tindered your bones
because you cannot forgive yourself for what you did to me.
	Don't say abuse 	Don't say molest 	Don't say nightmare
	Don't say 	say Don't 	Don't say anything
Say brother.
Say blood.
Say anything that will make this easier.

But I will not abide sympathy for my rapist.
I will not throw myself at the grave of him
praying for something like salvation or hell.
I will not go looking for flames.
Brother, I am a lit candle
Brother, I am a mouth full of flint
and there are so many ways to ignite.
I am stuffing forgiveness into this body like kindling
I will forgive myself.
I will forgive myself.
Brother,
I am learning the weight of an accusation.
I am learning new words for strength.
I am learning how to scream your name. 

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