Dear Sandpaper family,
I see all of you,
All your bumps and bruises
All your ragged clothes worn over the remnants of your skin
Worn over the remnants of your blood scabbed skin
Worn over you
Mother and daughter
Father and son
The family became when the toxins of the mother
Met the emptiness of the father
Rubbed against each other until they were both dust
And that dust, that dust will burn.
The dry gasoline dehydrating the acid on your tongue
Sandpaper family, when will you learn?
The sandpaper children don’t know what to do
So sandpaper daughter does nothing, and sandpaper son,
The darkness you create you think is impenetrable.
Your darkness is mere mud on a window
But windows can be broken
And broken glass cuts skin
So, when you slam car doors expect someone to get hurt
Those sirens are the sound of police
Out to save you not get you
Your schizophrenic beliefs and your bipolar values
Depresses not only the children you harbour,
But anyone they will ever meet.
Anyone you ever meet will try to create sanctuaries in your head but the floor will cave into your own fog.
And your fog is the absence of the places
You've never been to.
do not invite them to stay
Warn them to leave, because
Nothing will grow without sunlight
Sandpaper does not support life
You are not living,
You are embodying all the past heartache you've caused.
Sincerely, sandpaper son.