Cassandra Troyan is an artist and writer born and raised in Columbus, Ohio. She is an MFA candidate at the
University of Chicago for Visual Arts. She has a chapbook written with her brother Cody Troyan, entitled, Big Bill and the Lonely Nation. She curates the reading and performance series EAR EATER in Chicago, IL, and her work is currently or forthcoming in amphibi.us, Bluestem, Double Shiny, H_NGM_N, JMWW, My Name Is Mud, Negative Suck, New Wave Vomit, Pop Serial, Right Hand Pointing and The Scrambler. She hopes to live on a boat in the main harbor of Stockholm after graduation.
This is a pain like Christmas eve.
Sort of burgeoning, wet,
falling apart into big clumpy heaps.
Matted and mottled.
I remember your house, it had such plush carpet.
The windows were clear.
The locks cleanly bolted.
It made me feel guilty for leaving,
it made me feel guilty for staying.
Stop grimacing, you’re smiling too hard.
You could never give me all of yourself.
You could never give me your vulnerability.
I bought my father a cane.
It’s not love if you aren’t ashamed.