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.