My book is running out of chapters,
So I keep going back
To the chapter
Where my last goodbyes were said to my childhood.

People say things seem to change
Yet the addresses
Of were your tombstone lives on stays the same.
Your house is draped over the clouds
That hover over the playgrounds.

They say it's cloudy
With a chance of the murky addiction
Crawling up your arm
Like the pin needles you used
To sew up my favorite blanket.

Now my blanket is in purgatory
After I saw you bleeding out on the couch
Wondering where did she go.
The chapters in my book
Doesn't recognize the mother
Who flirts with suicide on her gravestone,
Yet she kisses my wounds
And hold me tightly through stormy nights.

My childhood walked into the room
Witnessing the crime of saving her life
By wrapping this familiar stranger's ****** arms up.

"Where is she?"
"Where is my momma?"
I whipe the tears'
" Momma doesnt live here anymore."