when i stopped answering your calls i heard you
bitterly projecting over to where my friends sit
(my concrete friends not my real ones) you scream
“it’s no big loss
she had daddy issues.”

i remember that you didn’t floss your teeth
because you hated looking at yourself in the mirror,
and every night you would tuck in
your television instead of your baby sister.

i have issues with life: they tried to purge my very being
with fire and locusts, everyone involved too stubborn to win
i appreciate your efforts only in blood. please do not
boil my mistakes to a precipitate
of the fist that feeds me