How Two Find a Wound Nonexistent
I’d be open to surgery if I believed
the problem was solvable, but learning you
inside and out taught me that all solutions are
nonexistent,
similar to how our bond became a festered flower which
floated off into the night after that argument on your balcony
when you cursed me to hell and told me I’m just like my father,
a wound
you love to strike and slice every time the organ hidden deep
within your chest gets shattered, pieces you use to carve me up
then somehow
find
a way to bury me every time you check my phone and see her name appear
across the screen you cut deep, deeper than the distance I dig between your
two
thighs every time I go over, and as we fuck, you spit out words filthier than the mud your friends drag my name across in vain as they watch the boomerang bang us both across the head since I love you unconditionally and you love me twice as much, even when the conditions are most sickening. Leaving those who can’t comprehend, questioning
how?
By Isaiah Kye Diaz-Mays

Biography
Isaiah Diaz-Mays is a writer currently enrolled at Dartmouth College with aspirations to be a poet, novelist and screenwriter. Born and raised in Hudson County, New Jersey, his inspirations are James Baldwin, Terrance Hayes, Toni Morrison and Maya Angelou.