hold me like a grudge
After the Fall Out Boy song of the same name
by nat raum
like i hold myself—so perpetual
i’m used to my own touch already,
and i resent having to wrap my arms
around my torso to mimic intimacy,
and i can hold onto hatred forever.
i can forget every time you told me
i was beautiful and remember each
subtle barb like i caught it on camera.
the truth is i hold a grudge easy,
but dole out forgiveness in an instant,
before i can assess the wreckage,
consider the consequences. i have tried
to sit with it for years and only encounter
concessions, compromises. what depths
have you ascended from, that i can
see you above the bar, set below hell?
yes, i tolerate heat, but only for a moment—
i set fires, but i prefer to see them sizzle.
nat raum (b. 1996) is a disabled artist, writer, and genderless disaster based on unceded Piscataway and Susquehannock land in Baltimore. They’re the editor-in-chief of fifth wheel press and the author of this book will not save you, the abyss is staring back, random access memory, and others. Past and upcoming publishers of their writing include Gone Lawn, Split Lip Magazine, Allium, and BRUISER. Find them online at natraum.com.
