We had you pushed into the furnace;
spoiling organs and
leaking skin were
burned away.
Your pulverized bones
resemble beach sand in
Tawas,
fittingly.
Abandoned the wagon
again,
Cos I’m a goddamned tyrant,
missing you, Mother—
been consuming for two
twelve hours, and I
will continue to imbibe until my barbican
heart has been razed.
This early morning,
trust,
I’ll make it to market by noon—
I learned how to function from you.
Mother,
are you proud of me,
still?
I ask your ashes kept in
keepsake urns. Ashes—
granules, the color of
beach sand.
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Stephen, you just blew up my heart with your kindness. Thank you for sharing this deeply personal piece. Much love to you, friend. ❤
It was my pleasure in doing so. I felt this piece very much. In the heart, and in the soul ❤
I’m happy to know my words have touched you so. What a beautiful gift it is to make connections through the written word. ❤
There seemed to be some unresolved issues with the families in this one…
I had to share this with you. When I went to Kindra’s blog, I left a note saying “I saw this on A Journal For Damned Livers”. I corrected the title but it had me giggling to myself. I hope it makes you chuckle too.
Haha! A Journal for Damned Livers! It makes so much sense! I’m glad you shared this with me. It’s made my day 🙂
It was so apropos, it still cracks me up!
🙂