A Rippin & A Tearin

My mother
is dying.

so I
bite off
my lips
for not
speaking,

my fingers
bloody
for not
reaching out
more;

drink
the organs
she gave me
stripped
and fatty.

maybe
this time
they will
heal new 

and
those skins
Will know
what to do(?)

Published by

oiseauxwords

I am bird, these are my words.

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