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I.
I promise to always be
big
here by my mother’s warn out
hands she cooks a lot for everyones stomachs and
souls dont ask for pain.
she came like gold mine to sleepy hallow
or troubled teen to therapy
(therapy was a man a lot taller a lot
-more wise?)
this is what love is
it in fact doctrine, God's law.
says she is “not very smart” for faulty
English-she spoke more sweet truth. he-
the poison of too-ripened fruit bleeding from springy beds.

II
“this is what I have created and I thank God”
she saw it good.
his eye always creeping down the nape
of her neck (no one asked for intrusion) she
only wants to love she loves us.
but know that when
his creep is present
we are number two

III
my wrinkly friend you are a
wrinkle in time.
gravity (yours) that still drags
holy gold mine there’s
n o t   m u c h  l e f t
but there’s time and
you (too) will pass.
I sit there
Stoic like
small tower
natural-
these bloodshot eyes and caffeinated hands doing a good dance

knock knock,
here at the
land
“fight or flight” they said my inclination is to
bite-
it’s my right, no.

I gift my parents a smile it’s what they wanted
frowns (ours) from lands not known beyond the borders of
(Consistent) crinkles of the corners of cheeks

I’m not consistent like
clouds
but waves,
I have always wanted to be the sea.

In my land (big) of
-Drip drop-
in my
Home lies my sweet.
dissociate
Father in bag
suffocate the senses smell decrescendo of hair
burned with the irons so I could be perfect
Am I- here

In libido in limbo my favorite
games are the ones thought of at night when
in room he intrudes I don’t wanna
talk
I am

Skin picking is a pass-time goes well with
block outs -sunlight is not seen now-
Expectations my
reactions should be natural I want to be in every right spot

Fall exists then exits but wind has to blow –first when
natures tells you to leave so you make love with winter
you lick snowflakes
snow angels are for kids.

— The End —