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Dear Mother
you shoot at me
arrows hailing from the sky
like i’m wearing a bulletproof vest
except you know i’m not
beneath the dark cloak
i am still the same girl you used to sing to every night
who rushed to your arms at the first sign of danger
and somewhere within me she’s still there
bottled up like grapes pressed into wine
with old memories retracting from my hands with each day
and faces of people too insignificant to remember
but losing track of someone you once were isn’t a crime
so why am i sitting with metal crunching my frail wrists
rotting away in a chamber because of your past mistakes
you were supposed to climb into the cellar of auld lang syne
and grapple in the darkness for my beaten soul
that you left behind when i wandered too far in the grocery store
i cannot continue to give parts of myself to all my yesterdays
because soon i will run tomorrow out of business
but it’s been so long that if i were to pull off my hood
like the unveiling of an artist’s masterpiece
i don’t think you would recognize me
there was magnanimity churning within me
vines spreading from limb to limb
flowers growing in my voice my touch my smile
all given life to by the water mill at the center of my heart
but you were blind to accomplishment
blind to benevolence
blind to a world of forgiveness of indulgence
so pressed under rocks spilling from cliffs of neglection
my heart finally splittered
and without water my plants shriveled up and cracked
and their hanging corpses are the only memory of the person i almost was
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