sick mother, pick flowers

she is busy beside me not with me where
dandelions break and tea’s never drunk and cigarettes are smoked
and guilt plays in strums that pluck at my nerves that hurt what I’m
too afraid to touch

One thought on “sick mother, pick flowers

  1. This is getting to the point of becoming addictive. Respect given by me because of mere quality and skill is only demanded by exceptional writing and you are an exceptional writer. I am going to add you to my blogroll if you don’t mind, and if you do don;t hesitate to let me know. Your work will still be extraordinary.



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