You thought you could create reality
by wanting it. You beat your version
into me. I wanted to believe what even you
knew was a lie. My sister drank it in,
her spirit died. Somehow, I knew
against all logic, you the goddess of my life,
could not be right, although I had to bend
my stiff-necked head, confused
by terror and a child’s love, like Galileo
having to renounce his true, sun-centered
world, but mumbling in his heartAnd yet it moves.
Acquiescence
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Critica is an inclusive and transdisciplinary publishing platform that focuses on offering a reflective and aesthetic space to consider social and cultural issues through a psychoanalytic and creative lens. It is also a forum for ideas at the intersection of psychoanalysis, creativity, philosophy, and the social sciences.
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