
Year 26
"There would be a nobility then, there would be a birthday."- Plath
I woke up this morning
just as the sun rose
like every morning.
I stammered to the kitchen
my soles brushed lightly
against the matted carpet.
I made your coffee
packed your lunch
and sent you off
like a proud mother
of kindergarten praise.
I scrambled my eggs
or was it apathy.
It was thick
and the spoon sighed softly.
My forgotten pill
called to me
as the clock rang a loud 8am.
I woke up this morning
just as the sun rose
like every morning.
I tore off the calendar page
and February 28th sat there
like the early visitor
the same squirrel that sits
at my windowsill
the same as yesterday.
Through mama's eyes
Tired weary eyes
dark circles and bags inhabit her face
half moons of bruise-purple
only it was time that beat her
She sees daddy come home
everyday at 6 pm
bringing in the dead
of that day
tattooed fingernails
of diesel grease
She sees brother hugging
his plastic protection
huffs and puffs
that infiltrate his shriveled lungs
She sees me
her hem, my security blanket
her fat thigh, my maypole
"ashes, ashes, we all fall down"
Mama's eyes
hieroglyphics of my family
Weary Winter tree
wonder if trees cry...
their knotty shoulders droop
snow-capped head hangs in disappointment
From a window I see...
white specks puddle the asphalt
clumps of icy tears drip
drop
drip
long transparent hands reach out
frigid fingers failing
to find me
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