Twenty-year hangover

My childhood leaks out of my starboard eye

Dripping against my feigned indifference

As the left eye watches you persistently

Drill holes in your three-pronged family

 

What did it taste like when I was born?

Did that whiskey sour shot of fatherhood

Unexpectantly handcuff to you to

The radiator of responsibility

 

Heating up the room until there was

No window to open that could air out

The gnawing tic of your flesh and blood

Wailing for love in a June crib

 

Summer baby grew up by winter

Learned to walk away from the sun

That shed light on unanswered murmurs

Falling in the reflection of broken bottles

Author's Note

Disclaimer: every poem I write is a work in progress, and part of the reason I decided to finally post my poetry is to receive feedback. For this poem in particular, the last stanza is weak. I find the last line in particular cliche; I like the image, but not how I chose to portray it.