
Why poke an
Old scratch
Long ago
Healed, faded
Who wants to
Purposely revisit pain
To what end
Once, at a wedding
In an attempt
To be helpful
Collecting empty cans
At the midnight hour
Tin scored my fingertip
Blood welled and fell
An unexpected
Deep gash
Such a minuscule memory
Reflecting on my
Little world
I’m struck by
Its smallness
Bubbles can only
Get so big
Before bursting
Probably why
I hate balloons
Simple plastic scrap
Has the capacity to
Elicit a wee fright
(Borrowed words)
Tiny gasps for tiny terrors
soak up silence
Last night the kids
Spilled water
Wads of paper towel
Casually discarded
Triggered reminiscence
A dinner napkin
Thick and white
Unwillingly absorbed
My lifeblood
Someone must have
Winced at the stains
Marring their perfect linen
Apologies are always
On the tip of my tongue
They tumble out
Easily, too often spoken
My golden goddess
I want to tell you
I’m sorry
But really
I’m not sorry
False is my contrition
A kind of longing
For submission
Mine or yours
In my mind
I’m still kneeling
Waiting for your
Dominating caress
Which should have
Followed the
Stinging lash
Of harsh words
I know it will
Never come
Yet I relive it
All the same
Just to feel alive
About the Creator
Aspen Marie
In love with life and all of its foibles.
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives

Comments (6)
Your free verse is always spectacular, but these lines, "Bubbles can only / Get so big / Before bursting / Probably why / I hate balloons" remind me of some of the first poetry I heard that made me really get into it. The artistry on this poem is really something. Loved it!
I love how you linked together all these small moments to show how the past still pulls at you.
I love the crisp and vibrant imagery in this poem. It really put me in the narrator's mindset.
Well-wrought, Aspen!
Poetic alchemy. Marie, you always leave me feeling all kinds of ways. This felt sensual in a strange way as well as that inner quickness for apologies. I can so relate. This felt so vulnerable and like I wanted to give you a hug cos if reliving past memories. Ones that may not be the most traumatic but the ones that eat us more inside. Anyway ignore my rambling especially if it makes no sense. I'm also trying to squint my eyes to see the pic and make sense of it. Regardless, I came away with this thinking more and stirred more than I was before reading.
Oof, this hit me so hard because it was so relatable. Loved it!