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unnamed
Poems
Nov 2019
Family
Family is a sick metaphor
wherever I go they are
inside of my lungs and more
still alone I'll wander poor
When with the mother
her rage eyes were upon me
watching the sickness of a father
the frustrated artist or the silence
When with the father
his rage screams upon me
calling the nickname of a mother
like I was the end of a love in defiance
Memories of violence swallows me
The anguish of escaping this solace
Watching the cracks of being
thrown in around it
Memories of violence swallows me
and whenever I look I can't hide it
from this anguish puzzles inside of it
this endless wicked metaphor of
family
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unnamed
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