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UNiTY
Poems
Mar 2018
Mother
She is a broken record
A broken record will repeat itself,
No knowledge that you must hear this drone.
Even if you acknowledge this crack in the vinyl
It will continue to make this repetitive sound until the moment the needle is pulled away.
I mean no harm most of the time
its just hard not to place your hands upon somebody
causing you to feel so much hatred
not for themselves
but for the things they do
She is a broken typewriter
and the writer is on the last page
they will ever write
and though all of the mistakes
were only mistakes
but with keys that click and press and print
you just cant erase
that ink will always stain my skin
it wont change the way that I am a typewriter
and a record that plays on clearly
with some spots of ink
and some bumpy tracks
She is a mess
not my mess
yet sometimes
She makes her messes
then makes those messes mine
because i make my own messes
and they fit so perfectly to blame for her own
that she gets away Scot ******* free
most of the time
and i just carry these boulders
until i can drop them at the top of this mountain
only for her to push them to the base again
what a waste of my ******* time
Written by
UNiTY
20/Non-binary/Arcturus
(20/Non-binary/Arcturus)
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