Mother

Conscious of death 

In the years of my early youth

I was always waiting to join you 

Because when you expired

I think I did too

Nervous hands severed my youth

As I slice the stem 

I still wonder what remains

Locks of long hair are kept 

but below from their wilting skin they must have wept

are bones all that is left

This constant justification

to why I am here 

The neglectful hasty introduction to life 

which I was forced to make sense

That stagnant flat where I was always put down

by the one who was supposed to be happy

I was still around

Instead I feel my father resented

our hideous resemblance  

and with each strike of anger

My confidence faded

Should I be here at all

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

geez, this gave me the heebie jeebies, sort of like Rosemary's Baby...

so dark...love it.