4:46 PM.
I can hear a bird crying somewhere outside. I wonder what has undone it—why would a bird cry so loudly and for so long in the middle of the day? February is too warm and I don't know what to do with myself. My grandmother is sick and I am sick of being useless—what can I do to save her? I don't know how to pray. I don't know how to dream, how to hope, how to not think the unthinkable. There is the question of the father—the endless and inevitable what if—and it is such a cliché, but I can't help but ask myself: What if he were here? What if I could see him, touch him? What if he could make everything go away like when God sent the flood? These are a child's questions and a child's desires. The presence of a man won't make my grandmother well. The presence of a man won't make me well either.
4:52 PM.
ΔΙΑΒΑΖΕΙΣ
eating the moon
Ποίησηcatalog of small tortures highest ranking: #2 in poemcollection © z. t. corley, 2023
