Sock and Buskin
by Sadie Park
CW Trauma
Dad, and Dad. I have always had two dads. I call them both dad but I don’t know which dad is the real one. One dad knows of the other dad but the second dad doesn’t know of the first dad. He just thinks that my busted red lip is merely makeup. Split in two, my father, like sock and buskin. Both parts of the same face.
Thalia, oh sweet Thalia, makes her appearance every weekday. Sundays are her favorite days. I never speak to Thalia yet I see her hauntingly, always just ahead of me. Thalia is to me what soap bubbles are to toddlers. Always so pretty and bright, always at the tips of one’s fingers. She pops when one tries to touch! Thalia comes in at 8 and clocks out at 5. When I see dad, I ask him, where has thalia gone? It is only 5:01. Why is it only Buskin that is here? Dad doesn’t answer but Other Dad says that it’s because I’ve been bad. I know that I must stay away but I don’t know why I must stay away.
At 4:59 my toys lay cluttered on the floor but at 5:00 they must be gone. I must either dispose of them or put them away. I must dispose of them as I can’t reach the drawer for the toys. At 4:59:59 I throw my precious toys away but I know that Buskin will not be pleased either way because I cannot hide my toys in the trash. I must hide them but I do not know why I must hide them.
I hope to speak to Thalia today but I know that I will not. Thalia does not come out to play with me. Thalia plays with the other little boys and girls in the school yard and makes them laugh. I wish to laugh like that but Thalia leaves at 5:00 and does not come back until 8:00. If I plead with her to stay she only leaves for longer. One time, Thalia played with me but buskin found out. I do not want Buskin to find out. buskin must not find out again.
It is hot out today but I must not remove my sweater. It is hot out today but I must not reveal my red shirt. It is hot out today but I must not show my black and blue and purple and yellow and green skin. My shirt feels crisp with blood, it chafes against my skin. It is hot out today but I must not remove my sweater.
Buskin found out.
Sadie Park is a young bipolar genderqueer poet based in Pennsylvania. They most enjoy making food for other people and writing poetry. You are likely to find him staring into space and listening to music. You can follow them on social media @sadithine.