family

a person stands obscured in the corner, only their eyes visible. ''are you sure you want to tell the truth. knowing what it means about you as a person.'' someone else stands to the side, standing in darkness. their expression is harrowed. the first person continues, ''no you like or respect has ever even implied...'' a third person interrupts. ''i was a shitty sister. i had a shitty brother. our parents were shitty. i love them all still. what was i supposed to do? i was 10 years old.'' the darkness deepens around the second person. angry, they spit out, ''the only person who ever seemed to even LIKE me. the REAL me. i was shit to him. you don't fucking get it.'' text at the bottom of the page reads, ''no one ever talked about anything. i had to guess how they felt. i didn't talk when it mattered the most, either. i ran my mouth. you know i did. all that yapping, not knowing its shape or sharpness. a blunt weapon embedded with spikes.''
a wispy drawing of two baby goats running in a field. text reads, ''what's the 'truth?' neither of you have even tried to speak to each other in 10 years.''


march 7, 2026

and the thing is, i'm not about to pick up the phone, either. so what was the point?

archive, previous, next.
take me away from here.


words and images © wren white, 2026.