these bones are restless
just because you have forever
doesn’t mean time doesn’t
pass any more quickly or slowly,
and i suppose you are to thank
your parents for life;
but who could thank you for this
thirst that never dies in any of the seasons?
i prefer cloudy days and days full of rain,
but i can weather those of sun;
i’m not sure if that’s a blessing or a curse
when many of our kind can’t—
i remember in all of my dreams you are always
so distant, father, as if i am some bruise
that kills your ego;
come and claim your thorned rose before
the roses forever shut you out
into the dark of which our kind seeks and adores
like black opals around their throats—
i have grown accustomed to all the silence you’ve given me
after all i have cried out for years to tell you that i missed you
never once do you answer my missives even in my dreams
you look but never answer me
as if it is too painful for you to acknowledge my existence,
but father sometimes it is painful to exist when i know you do not care;
why wasn’t i good enough to be loved?
i wonder if you are so distant to your other children
or did they always feel the feathers of your love soft and warm?
the thought of that drives me mad, sometimes;
may your cruelty and silence kill you as it has killed me.
