my cousin loved to read and write
she said she liked fantasy better
she never understand the hate and fight
and i couldn’t explain through a letter

my sister said my cousin sang and sang and still could not be heard
and my mother said that in this way, she was a mockingbird

once i read a book that said
it's a sin to **** her kind
i told my father this one day
but he did not reply

she does not a thing but think beautiful thoughts
and fill others with wonder
and yet once she told me that if people were water
she would have already been pulled under

so how can i blame my cousin
when she tells me she hates these lives
because at least she knows there is no chance
of the miracle they claim arrives




*last night my cousin called me
i think she tried to say goodbye
but i could not hear myself respond
my mother heard me cry

i wish i could have stopped her
and i wish she’d had a chance
but instead she was a pretty mind
that no one gave a glance

a shadow of a person
a glimpse of sun behind the clouds
she was always half a person
she hides even now behind her shrouds

my cousin loved to read and write
and my mother always said
your cousin was a mockingbird
nobody listened and now she’s dead.