I do not intend on being a voice for survivors.
Everyone survives their own hell that I cannot hold a flame to.
All I can do is let my heart leak and pound, and say that I have survived, too.
Is This Relapsing?
I hope you are where you are feeling as
fragile as I am feeling for you. I pretend to
hold you in this bed, in the cornfields of
the Midwest where we could be safe
amongst ourselves under the star speckled
sky. I’m imagining safety with you.
With you I am safe. With your arms around
me, I'm the safest I’ve ever been.
None of the bad is trying to find us
anymore. And I sing you to sleep. And the
quiet stands still.
Richelle Kota (she/they) is a writer, nature enthusiast, and a student living in Philadelphia. In 2017 she released her first self-published work, Where There Were Roses: A Memoir Through Poems. Her work has been published by Peach Mag, Cordella Magazine, Visual Verse, and Recenter Press. She aspires to live a very simple life on a farm with many pigs, goats, and dogs.
You can follow her on Instagram @tiniestdad