top of page
Image by Cora Leach
Writer's pictureNolcha Fox

Separate Lives

We grew up with the stifling rules, the anger, and the dread. You found friends to be the family missing from our home. I withdrew and closed my door until I could escape. When we grew up and left the house, our common roots gave us a bond we cherished. Now you’ve become what you despised. I am a voice you disregard as you were treated, minimized. We’re distanced both in space and mind. We live our separate lives.


You discount me, just

a puckered apple

in the farmer’s market sales bin.


published in The Interstitial

0 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Comments


bottom of page