I have been told that I can be
too much, that I’m clingy,
that I should learn to relax,
take a break, pop a xanax, put
my feet up, live a little, not care
so much. but last time I relaxed,
mom killed herself and so now I can’t
relax, I can’t take a break, I can’t
put my feet up, because
who will I lose this time if I do? who
will watch me turn my head, close my
eyes, take a deep breath, and think
“okay, now!” and disappear from view
before I can think to open my eyes
and ask what their plans are tonight and
can I tag along?
Ophelia Monet (she/her) is a 2025 Best of the Net nominated poet, high school teacher, storm chaser, and mother. She lives in the suburbs of Cincinnati with her husband and their son. She is the editor-in-chief of wildscape literary journal. Her work appears or is forthcoming in Hobart, Door Is A Jar Literary Magazine, Ink and Marrow Lit, Loud Coffee Press, Heimat Review, The Orchards Poetry Journal, The Inflectionist Review, and more. You can find her on Instagram at @mysoullaidbare.
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