I grew up five years after breath gave me life.
        I still pray each day that it is 1995
I'd be adequate now
         and whole
I wouldn't have wasted my heart in their         searing cesspools
Incessant uttered pleas, marks that derange the page
Can't harbor the release my contorted heart craves

I wish just now I’d spoken the worst
    I’m so sorry to say that the pain only got worse