dear mom,
I'm trying
to be good. but it's cold
in the alley where I make myself a human
so you'll have to settle for
regretful deformity.
dear mom,
I'd like to say I don't tremble
at the altar of forgiveness, but the bells are
clanging out a command for
truth.
dear mom,
the sky is gray today because I opened
my mouth and a swarm of bees flew
out, stingers full of ink.
there's still a buzzing inside my stomach if you're
worried I've been suddenly left empty.
dear mom,
I think I've gone back in time, for now I find myself
three feet tall. my hands are
sticky
with sweets and the pleasant suffocation of humidity.
when I went to sleep last night the air was
dry.
dear mom,
please continue to open the door for me, so I
may remember what it feels like
to be soft.
these days, my heart resembles more a heavy stone and less
the pillow of yours on which I used to
rest my head.
dear mom,
if I was a birdcage, would you fill me with
cockatoos and parakeets and canaries
so my ribs will once again
be full of singing?
dear mom,
if I am ugly now that time has passed, will you
still bestow kisses upon my mirror
so I might see the
echo of your faith in me etched upon the glass
and remember what it means to
keep living?
dear mom,
when I scream and cry like a newborn are you
reminded of the day the universe kissed me
into existence or are you
fearful of the way I still
look so young?
dear mom,
everything is loud.
how have your eardrums not burst from the
reckless endeavors of a world
which claims to love you?
I love you more.
dear mom,
when you can't sleep, just know that
I can't sleep. know it's you
who haunts my good dreams like a pacifist spirit
and I fear it's me who lingers in the
alleyways of yours.
it's cold.
dear mom,
I'm trying to be good.
you think I'm still good, right?
Comments