Will the bitterness be with me till I die? Will it engulf me?
i’ll just take that bitter bow like everyone else I’ve known. Take my bow with a grin and a fuck you.
I’ll try and fail try and fail
lower the bar, my expectations, again and again
Like my mother who, with only 20 years on me , is already thinking about dying.
where is she gonna live while she dies.
That’s all that’s left to do. Where is she going to live.
Where will I live? How will I die?
40 years old feels like 40 stories high on some shaky rattling scaffolding.
My heart, hope, my life my skin cracked and vulnerable like the high desert soil.
A footprint stays for years. Years I carry the footprints.