Feb 17, 2022
[Something About a Nuclear Family]
10/30/16
With formaldehyde fantasies in my veins, cancer grows into vines
stapling the trees of our lives, with excerpts of unwaveringly
painful memories; of similarly unadorned clairvoyant
tragedies, and we are all that remains.
Devoid of reception in this hallowed door frame;
I’m watching us move, and he calls my name,
says it’s coming up short of a late-night habit
like my nicotine addiction, but I disagree.
Sure, it’s managed me a mess; a contorted rage of tears.
I’ve fallen too far down the rabbit hole — trapped in the
concrete compounds of my own holy beliefs,
but don’t I stumble through these harrowing halls
with such certain and graceful integrity?
