Inflammation

My mum always says, I get where water wouldn’t.
When he drank me, I left myself somewhere sunken
living beside a leopard seal. I’m happiest after I’ve gotten wet
an ocean, a bath, a puddle, a bottle of Costco’s finest mineral.
Without water I panic, gulp down those unspeakable things
I don’t even have words for. Do you ever see pictures
from holidays in your childhood? I try not to.
I must gate keep my senses or else the child in me will rip
and shred everyone to pieces, gorge on their guilt
for not being there, not taking notice, not protecting
something so small and pretty and thoroughly good.
For never asking what was the matter. I’d leave them
in their own water, gurgling. I ask my sister, where was we
in that picture? She says, doll, your memory is terrible.

Jaymz Lea (he/they) is a queer human, mental health professional, published academic and poet. They write about human interiors – those othered outed and ousted. He’s an excitable nature geek, sharing much adult life with his ferocious cat, Effie. Insta: @hiraeth_tara