Cool to the fingers
Steam on my forehead.
It is raining
And I see the same frame
Again and again
The past flashing strobelight
Of my nightmares magnified.
Moving, frame by frame
In colorless horror.
When I was five and sitting
In a grocery cart telling you
How you were the best mommy
In the whole wide world.
Your face cast with
A shadow of humility and shame.
And I wondered why.
Shattered glass, empty bottles,
Flies scavenging, buzzing,
Music turned up up, walls trembling,
Despising you, crashes, falling,
Spinninng laughter, wells
That never end.
I was never the rock
You thought I was,
(always trembling)
For what is left of me
Without you?
The roar of the water is louder than I,
Never in the daylight will you see me cry.
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