"Boiled Like Us" i.j.a

Welcome to the first official episode of Don't Worry it Gets Worse! To kickstart your new favorite podcast, Isabella reads and analyzes an original poem, then reflects on the meaning and where she is now vs where she was then.

Boiled Like Us

6/23/2020

Thank God I broke my own

heart this time

stripping it raw for all these months with

a slow and steady boil so the skin peels off nicely

you filled the pot but I put myself in

fingers turned to raisins for grip and I still didn’t know what I wanted to grab

you filled the pot but I turned the heat on

closed the lid to keep the condensation in

and I want to be sorry that in this whirlpool I still didn’t choose you

but I cannot lie through my teeth anymore

they are boiled and brittle and they will break if I don’t mention,

I blistered our skin

and all I can tell you is to not pick the scab like you picked me

she will break-

full of puss and blood and you will try to hold her down with just one finger

but she will not stay inside of you

I wish I was sorry but I do not know how to be

I lifted the lid and let myself out

but you are still stuck

scalding in my wreckage

I am sorry that I closed the lid and pinned it shut with a wooden spoon

but I am not sorry that I left

to turn the heat off.

Just know the pot is still hot enough to burn the spoon

that pins you in

and remember not to pick the scab

she will not stay inside of you like I tried to