Flies Drawn to Light
The last day you slipped through their blue plastic gloves
she spat acid at my face
the day after our gentle giant was wheeled out of hospice
she dunked mother's face in a lawsuit
money was raked over your bed
before it was even dug
sickness attacked your cells before
any cancer or chemo
sniffed the scent of
someone with wings
and I'm going mad that
it's the brightest light
the flies always swarm to.
YOU ARE READING
Paint Us Gray: Part 2
Poesia(This is part 2; please read part 1 first!) Rejection. Betrayal. Heartbreak. Grief. Unfortunately, we've all had a swallow, some more than others, of this bitter brew. This is just a sliver of my chapter that is a part of this world's grand nar...
