If you don't hate yourself every day of your life
Chances are you have
become
what you hated when you where younger
Be that a
Bug a
Dragon a
Father a
take breaths in between the a's kind of writer
Running in circles with their words just like your
mother did when she couldn't keep track with the lies he spit like some sort of venom
thick like molasses
Inside out like his humor
Or his shirt
Or sometimes his palms when he stretched them to you and you- only 5 turned away, back to your mother and held your head to her as she drove from the house.
But You won't become a
Bug or a
Dragon or a
Father so
You hate yourself
Because all that hate needs to go somewhere
And you are not your father.
YOU ARE READING
strange thoughts
Poetrystrange thoughts is my struggle, my strife, the bad, but also a reminder that there is good, that things truly get better.
