this tiny table
far
too long…
gathering glares from you
Nannie
every time i breathe
puddles of tissues gather
around my feet
gather
moss which i track through
sanctuaries…
of kitchens
where my brother’s hand
curls around peanut brittle smells
every time you open
your refrigerator door
a perfect metaphor
you could never quite find a way
to let go
of
could you?
it was like
you wanted us all
to remember
the day
you gave us crayons
and asked us to color our hands
so you could put his on the refrigerator
and mine
in your garbage of glares
next to the tissues
gathering moss
check it out
cuz this is where
i toss
your crayons
cuz im all grown up
and i
choose
my own metaphors
now
Nice poem on rebellion!
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Lol not rebellion… fleeing mind bullies who once lived in my youth
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Very nice…
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Thank you:)
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