Then comes the part where I am the best. I am the best ever.
The backbone stupid. So there was a
goat could speak as if trolls and a water under the bridge. There’s my
girl in the box ’neath the second pine. Clouds part. I hurt people on purpose. This is
what I learned from my
mom. A gold dirt. Sit me down to whisky every night for I am exactly
as dirty as I dream. So I inherited my grandmother’s heels her lamb’s wool coat and her
penchant for fashion over
fit. Mommy this is how you die. Through the brown water brown fish
like children’s dreams. I was daughter then I had to be her everything. I was like the dog and
like I was her husband and whatever else.
It’s not fair but I’m not a fair person. Later she tells me I was terrible
to live within high school. “That’s codependent,” my friend says. “That’s an only
daughter growing up with
a single mother,” I reply. The truth they say will set you free.