Poetry Pause is the League of Canadian Poets’ daily poetry dispatch. Read “my sim” by Madeline Weih-Wadman.

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my sim

By Madeline Weih-Wadman

if my sim

is happy, i will survive. i play

when i fall ill. short bursts,

spurts of achy sea

foam, thick waves of pain. my sim

is narrow and pretty, she collects meadow

crystals while i churn

in my bed sheets and

numb this injustice. boils and

blisters under the flesh of my

brain, splatter, spray,

drain through ear canals. my sim

drives pricey cars down

Denlyn Street, she buys organic produce

in bulk. i wrap

ice around skull arteries and slow

the push of sludgy, scalding blood. my sim

makes perfect berry pancakes. I delete

her doors and light a fire

in the kitchen as she cooks

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Copyright © Madeline Weih-Wadman

Madeline Weih-Wadman is a Vancouver-based writer and filmmaker. She holds a diploma in screenwriting from VFS and a BFA in Creative Writing from UBC. Her short stories exploring girlhood, queerness, and chronic pain can be found in the Temz Review, The White Wall Review, and SADMag.

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