lila woodard

six too fast

it creeps in—

crawling its way up my esophagus 

laying heavy on my tongue

the bitter bile burning the cave top

sizzling sicklets of blood bouncing

how dare you make me feel like i was over reacting

how dare you. 

you walk by me. 

once. 

twice. 

and again. 

and again 

and again 

and again 

i can hear you. 

i can hear you 

i can hear you




i know you know i can 




but you still don’t care enough 

to shut up 

you're always drinking 
more than you can digest 
but you only deflect 
and you claim no violence 
but then i hear from below me 
your screams and slams 
an echo of your childhood, 

you're always drinking 
more than you can digest 
but you only deflect 
and you claim no violence 
but then i hear from below me 
your screams and slams 
an echo of your childhood, 

to my soul mate; you’ve grown so much— so fast. it’s been ten years since i met you, your baby hairs swimming in the breeze that occupied the summer air. Small scrapes upon your knees marking pavements walked by phantom dreams.