the soft of your father's breath decaying inside you has suffered through us
staying up at night-
trying to

long enough.

yet somewhere
in
the meat between your marrows and tomorrow: we were not good enough to
get it.
and all the vulgarity of every single tear shed in your name
failed to be censored.

you cared more for the ****** little
soccermoms
murmuring in the background to cement the violence of
their mediocrity. i stopped it there-
no one left to call me out, they found me.
but
i have eyelashes that walk across the sides of your face, better than anyone.
and
we held if off for just
one more
but- there will be other times
and they are waiting for you to drop your guard
and sail into them
with lids closed and
fluttering.