foster by choice, child by circumstance.
but old enough to know better.
should have known, should've know
i keep thinking that this is all my fault.
and the words scratched deep into my skin
laugh at me, everytime I try
to discard blame
to shed words that shouldn't have been spoken
to cast away memories like maggots
i feel shattered
sometimes
like i should/will give up.give in.
to demons that I can't yet name
and faults and flaws not yet assigned blame
i wonder if my thoughts ever end
trail off into air like elipses . . .
why all of my poems begin with and
incorrect superlative
I am ever incorrect
always insubbordinate.
And this anger never ends
and and and
maybe it never will.
maybe it is armor from hurt that I've long since felt.
maybe I will be cast
stone set
like an eternal and