You say you're never gonna leave him alone with anyone else.
And this was right: you brought it all on yourself.

She was a bitter old man by 18, trading a gun for a suit
(You go feral and blind, and are broken, by too much school)

There was the Hospital
And then the Group Home,
And then the: “Get your shit together for your baby son…”
A ‘pyramid scheme’ to manage in your 20's
Then you broke down:

“Dump me in the quarry on King’s Road. Re-mantling the silence in the forest is a full-time undertaking. Undertaken from us were the luminous and heavy condensations. Conversations are the evidence of needlepoint conscriptions. Will you take me?”

(Nonsense.)

We built a life around terrified animals, splayed out in silage and carved into stone
Antibiotics surround every love letter,
dividing the excrement from the blood.

Staring at your son
He's borrowed your resentment and you're begging for him to default.

(a) A good person
(b) A good mother
(c) A friend

PICK ONE.

“Dump me in the quarry on King’s Road. I feel tired. I feel crowd-sourced. I feel limbic. I feel like a dual-axle truck that's passing you on the right. I feel like speaking in the language of oppression. Have I? I feel an episode coming on.”

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