To Give Up – Emma Bowers

September 9, 2025

like something pushing me on the swing

the hand on my lower back

guiding me up and down

from the sky, or the grave

from the ghost, or my Father

fingers like roots while my hair blows in the wind

a firm yes or no

telling me to kneel

did i surrender or concede?

it was voluntary i can prove it

the bruises on my knees from repetition

are becoming one with my body, knobby

every night i dip my knee cap in a bucket of wine and put it back

to prove my resistance and subsequent capitulation

every night i pray and every morning i regret it

in a world with a devil and a god

i make a home in surrender and control

submitting and dominating

bruises and ink

in my head my arms were still swinging

i guess that’s what it means

to give up