Mother,
I'm an intercity w(rec)k,
A currency of anger.
Lazy poet
Slave-girl to my own prison
Which you made with your late night interviews
And television jobs.
Mother,
Im a blood-red book destroyed by father,
his deadly-snake-psuedonymed plays.
And his salary from a young dream
Mother, I'm an ice-berg of thyroid neurosis.
Mother, you unholy icon,
I am like you in every nightmare,
Even awake.
Mother,
I'm a bitch because I was born.
Of you. Of you. Of you.
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