I Wanted a Metaphor

to say: the people we know are never the people we knew; beyond abuse, trauma waits like a
bottle masquerading as a choice more compelling than consequence. I wanted a metaphor
to say: there is never enough distance between the monsters we were and the monsters
we are; where we stand is where we sit; that we pursue novelty not change, like a
tamped promise suturing our fears into life and tearing out hope under cover of
night. I wanted something to say: I love you more than metaphor; more
than this mouthing want; this ceaseless guilt that I owe you more
than myself or more than imagery as substitute for self-pity—
this never-ending sense of leaving behind, and being left.
Something to say we are all each other’s brokenness,
and hold in its confected beauty—condensing
like a cube cantellated into an octahedron,
like pink panicles of crepe myrtle
sprawling towards the frost
—a well-known horizon,
forever receding
out of view


David Joez Villaverde Contributor
David Joez Villaverde is a Peruvian American multidisciplinary artist living in Detroit, Michigan. He is the winner of Black Warrior Review’s 2018 poetry contest and his poems in Crab Fat Magazine and L’Éphémère Review are 2018 Best of the Net nominees. He has been recently published or is forthcoming in Yemassee, RHINO Poetry, The Indianapolis Review, Yes Poetry, and Occulum.
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