the 28th day of july
is my mother's birthday,
although i wished it
wasn't.

i hate how she ages,
how one day i won't
have her here to show
me how to do this
or that,
but today i didnt care.

i was burning in hell
some place south of montana,
nothing lives here.
i tried to swim to the surface,
but something kept
pulling me back under.

i should have called,
should have stopped by,
or sent flowers,
but i was burning in hell
someplace south of
montana, where nothing
grows and nothing lives,
and i think she knew
why i couldn't
call or stop by
or send flowers