i tried so hard to be a winter reed, mother.
tape didn't help--couldn't be a wallflower
despite a tendancy to make love to wallpaper
(something about the pursuit
of insulated happily ever afters)

i tried so much to be an iron fist, father.
i crumple like aluminum at schoolyard bullies
my baby instincts faulty, it's flight or falter
(if it's any comfort to you
i have no love. too unruly)