To Whom It May Concern

To Missense

I only write letters to family

though estranged,

that you still are,

after all

You’ve run in the blood

Of those who came before me

I have one question

under what pretense are you here?

are you here by choice?

Or Is your presence

Some foul mistake?

 

To Fate

Was it your plan all along

To tear apart my family portrait?

The colors are meaningless

With the canvas shredded

Why separate us

Severing family ties

Like slicing a jugular vein

I can never weave together

The shredded threads of time

Graft over those arteries

With layers of calloused grief

I never seem to get any of it quite right

im lost without a timeline

 

To Death

Help me build a bridge

To see the skeletons

Of shared blood and bone

I can barely make out their silhouettes

Across the void

Mom says they would have loved me

And I would have loved them

But you can’t really love someone you’ve never known

And I feel so hollow

Will you come for me, too?

 

Dear God

You are my shepherd

But I feel so lost

Why is this happening

We were supposed to be in the clear

But thunder resounds into

The chasms of my mother’s bones

I guess we were only in the eye

What kind of shepherd

Leaves his stock to die?

 

To Whom it May Concern

I feel as though I am screaming into the dark

as the wind whips past with celestial indifference

The stars and Moon don't answer my calls

and the sky topples all around me, shattering the quiet

Please answer me, Missense, Fate, Death, God,

Who can I blame for the bloodstained blade on the kitchen floor

That cancer ripped out of my mother as she cried to me

"The doctors think I'm sick again, baby. I'm so scared"?

I wish I had all the answers, but

I don't even know who to address this fucking letter to.

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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