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  • Samira Burnside


This is a poem written by Milo Paul. It is one of three in a series that will be published weekly on Thursdays. You can find the first in the series here.

Milo Paul (anything but he/him) is a musician hailing from D.C. where they are a member of multiple bands, including garage outfit Fleabath, post-punk group Other Victorians, and their folk-punk solo project Thee Trashcan. Subsequently, most of their social media is thee_trashcan, so look that up wherever and you’ll probably find them!

(A Photo of Milo Paul)


Treatise, by Milo Paul.

no sleep

all coffee

black, muddy

wrists hurting

she leaves

my pen

and briefly

has escaped

and breathes

once she leaves

for a minute

just breathes

then screams

after then

just screams

before she must come back

walls and

twin towers

surround her

stranded in

the mire

to make fire

find a match

then strike til

she’s free

for longer

being known and

driven home in a


big and rotten

beget of her

mother’s crying shame


in her arms

in her veins

coursing through

to grow her

wings she takes

her heart into

her own hands

and squeezes

what a dream

black, muddy

burning holes into

her sides

til the sky

and her mind

are all one and the same

and her mother’s crying shame

sits in the fetal position

a black mark on a bland world

a stamp on a postcard reading

hey mother

how you doin’?

it’s your daughter

yes, i’m okay

but how are

you doin’?

storm’s passed now

still you’re in shelter

call me

leave your number

you’re my mother

i need you

and sometimes

i feel as if you


really needed me

not me as me

you sinned, so she sleeps

you sinned, so she sleeps

you never really wanted me

you never really wanted me

you never really wanted me

daughter, sure, but that could never be me


This poem was written by Milo Paul.

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