We think
The fire eats the wood

We are wrong

The wood
Reaches out to the flame

The fire
Licks at what the wood harbors

The wood
Gives itself away to that intimacy

The manner
In which we and the world meet each new day.

Gypsy

there’s no escape
from exploitation
all that you eat
animal or vegetable
was alive
trying to survive
that fire you make
the wood was a tree
buoyantly breathing
the virus reproducing in you
just wants to thrive
you vs. it
a zero sum game

From time to time you would mention
That I’d likely never meet your father.
I knew him well.
I woke up next to him
Every morning that I fell asleep next to you.

Living this conflicting life of regret and reality
living this conflicting life of confrontations and morality,
treading on this weak link of trust and animosity.
Living in this fear that what if those memories ever return,
or if I am even human enough to be breathing with them.

He didn't break you
You were already broken
He just played with you
Indelicately
It will be him
To whom the blame switches
For all your failures and faults
In order to avoid blaming yourself
Your mind does somersaults

Conquering logic
is what your history brings
destroy everything

                    Kelly McManus