Screaming Child

Poem by Lucy Whalen

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By the time this week is over
The whole street will know
My voice,
The way it breaks through walls
Like the day
They brought me home in a basket.

By the time my hands have cracked,
Eyes have melted
And all the spirits have sauntered
down the ancient pavement,

They will know it is
Too late, and
My empty casket will lie in this
Room, where Mum once laughed
As I clung to her thumb.

When they follow the silence
They will find the floor strewn with dusty albums,
And they will search for me under pictures
Of a daughter smiling with my eyes.

But I know they won’t find me, because

I am back hiding behind Dad’s old work shirts,
Where my baby teeth told ghost stories
Before they learned to scream.

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Lucy Whalen, a prolific writer, has made her mark in the literary landscape with published works in Cake Magazine, Gallons Magazine, The Afterpast Review, and Moss Puppy Magazine, among others. Dive into her captivating blend of creativity and depth. Connect with Lucy on Instagram (@lucy_whalen) and Twitter (@lucywhalen01) to explore more about her writing journey and beyond.