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Jun 2018
cantankerous

dear mom
it’s your fault
i miss you
i wish you knew
each piece of each
morsel of my heart
beat
more than these pieces of paper do.

they embody my body
language
scattered
sporadic
mislabeled
man and mishandled
like me with
the three i
speak fluently
incompetent and ineffective
ly. suffixes that suffocate me
as ***-backwardly i
awkwardly demean
when i mean to
seek through them the
clarity
you misperceive.

i couldn’t tell you
why i’m me
or how i came to be
the part of we
you’d rather
weep over
as does one
with the dis-ease
of a disease
that precedes
the deceased.

weep not over me justifiably
just
if i believe
it’s not i
you bereave.

-

WEDNESDAY JUNE 27, 2018
02:04 AM
absinthe
Written by
absinthe
176
 
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