from the time we are little, we are
taught that monsters lurk in the dark,
taught how to avoid them,
told what they prey on
and that
if you don’t go where you shouldn’t,
you won’t get attacked.
Years later we are still being
taught the same thing
except now, they are no longer beneath our
beds;
they are creeping up through pavement
making watch posts beneath streetlights,
like deer stand to forest.
of all the things we were taught the monsters
would prey on,
I was never told my body would be one of them.
that innocence is an easily mistaken, misshapen
thing. that they will see you
for everything but what you actually
are;
shadow
silk on the floor, step carefully
throat full of bees, don’t speak
ghost of a time period long
gone by, no longer relevant
as if i am too much woman
too much chamber,
space asked to be taken up.
ribcage, more casket than
lifeline.
no one ever told me that womanhood
would be more like survival
of the most afraid
and
no one ever told me that I would blossom
into it so quickly.
that i would become afraid.
that i would have reason to.
that apartment key would turn safety device, as if
it can combat a lifetime’s worth of flashbacks and
loneliness in a way that chews.
from the time we are little, we are
told that monsters lurk in the dark
i will not teach my daughter to
hide from them, or to
be afraid.
instead i will tell her she has everything she
needs in her wildfire mouth and her two
grenade hands. tell her,
you were born with wolf-lungs
embedded within your chest, to howl
in the midst of the blackness
not to run, tail between legs;
Defeated and breathless.
you were born with crowbar backbone, and
your space will never be mistaken for empty -
because your
“no”
fills the whole damn
thing.
Faith Gibbons is a 21-year-old poet and artist from Lakewood, New York. She has always had a deep interest and appreciation for art of all kinds, but poetry is what makes her heart beat the hardest. Her work can be found in Wild Violet Literary Magazine, and the Lavender Sisterhood. She runs a monthly open mic which allows people in her area to express themselves freely and openly via performance art. Regarding her creative process, she says “I am deeply inspired by anything that tugs on the untamable spirit of its observer, and if I am able to do that with my work - then I’ve done what I have set out to do.” When she is not writing (or drinking copious amounts of iced coffee), she interns for Glass Kite Anthology and volunteers as a Count for VIDA: Women in Literary Arts.
