Wildflowers and War

Am I afraid of love or is love afraid of me?

I cannot push a knife down the middle, cannot separate

The two. As a boy, my mother would sit me down

And tell me of all the ways we’ve lost my father. There is

A box with all the old photos and I never saw her open it once.

This is the same with the wildflowers my sister and I gathered

At the park, now wilting on the mantle. My older brother never

Apologized for the time he left the welt on my arm, or

When he told me that we hurt the same way. The sting of

Never being enough, my inability to say hello without thinking

Of goodbye - all of it is mine, and I never wanted it to be

Like his. Now here I am, and I’m sorry if I hurt you. Love isn’t

Meant to be a war thing but I’ve been taught to take a heart by

My teeth. I leave nothing untouched, even the heartache.

Narisma (he/him) is an 18-year-old Filipino writer and artist currently based in the Philippines. "Wildflowers and War" considers how young adulthood is shaped by childhood trauma.