it took so long to make my existence possible
money, doctors, and prayers to a mythical man
(desperate attempts to rearrange their cells into an offspring)
only to be given a jawbreaker
hello father
my time with you was short
but your wires keep tightening around me every time I stray (when will my neck finally snap off?)
I don't believe in biological purposes
or anything other than unreasonable spontaneity
my specimen is here simply because it is here
this specimen acknowledges its meaninglessness
what you didn't know didn't hurt you
what you found out through force, did
my portrait is slashed, this painter did a ****** job
you can no longer complain with a slanted mouth
my independency was torn away
my legs were ripped apart, indecency (your waist was too hard to straddle)
placed on a cross only to feel the blood rush to my head
I'll carry on my maiden name so the beliefs oppository to your own will forever be attached to you
I love you but not of free will
my image of you is artificial
so much damage has left the roots exposed, I can't seem to recall how many branches sprouted
now dear mother,
I'm sorry to disappoint but my departure is soon
my ears leak of worded substances that should not have ever been implanted
intimate acts, violated areas, broken promises, a pawned marriage, forged perfection
I've watched you grow and pass on responsibilities
you are no different than him
a narcissit could never take a better form
stale breaths when my self-interest is on display
decisions based on how many tears you can shed
you're remarkable, you've managed to instill guilt in me whenever I expose my troubles
as I write, my stomach is near your husband
I should not ridicule your selfishness because you know who this piece is actually for
high endurance, continously treading water with an anchor
this device is about to explode, take cover
if I'm mounted on him, you're hands are on my waist
chemical imbalances and mental distirbances
all relationships altered at the stake
just crucify me, you're used to loneliness anyways
you welcome grief
I could be dead already
you wouldn't know, your mouth is still open
we've endured a lot
let's sink
it sounds underwhelming to say I have trauma
and dramatic if I request guilt
let's just agree on muted discomfort
he doesn't rest in a cemetery
he's situated in something we can barely call a home
he's dust while the other uses his ashes to powder her nose to see a replacement
I scan over and over again, a cycle of stares
they're not sorry
they're not sorry
they're not sorry
they have no concept of what that is
why must I understand sympathy in order to enact that trait upon them when they could simply open their eyes to their hypocrisy?
roadtrip thoughts