Where do you stash the memories that remind you of your own death, the ones that sting the backs and corners of your eyes and nearly choke the life out of you in that painful death-grip of what once was, what was taken
when someone decided you no longer get to exist, that you’re not to be spoken of or to. What about when it’s your daughter?
Is it easier to take the memories of everything you gave up and stuff them in the garbage, to declare the work you’ve done and love you’ve given worthless, all because the person you did it all for hates you
for bleeding when you pushed her into this godawful world that still hates you for daring to exist?
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
I'm a weirdo nerd who’s extremely subversive. I like rocks, incense, and witchy stuff. Intrusive rhyme bothers me. Some of my fiction might have provoked divorce proceedings in another state.😈
MA English literature, College of Charleston
Keep reading
More stories from Harper Lewis and writers in Poets and other communities.
Feelings Never Die
It is Valentine's Day again, and it bought back memories that were over fifty years old. It bought me back to 1971, and I woke up and I knew my baby was due today. I was big and pregnant, and I felt like I was about to burst wide open. Imagine my surprise when the doctor told my I had a due date of February 14. I couldn't believe it, and since my baby was due today, I felt I could indulge myself a bit. I had gained a lot of weight, and chocolate was on the no-no list, but I had came to the end of this pregnancy, and I hoped it would be okay, after all I would deliver this baby today. So I walked across the street to the grocery story, and bought myself, a peppermint patty, covered in chocolate, my favorite. Me and my Valentine's baby would enjoy it together.
By Susan Payton4 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.