KML (April 3,1910 / Sacramento, CA)


it cuts through the place where nurturing sleep could have been
(i don't really remember if that was still an option) ,
but its noises and writhing make my heart ache and pound,
'cause their eyes are closed, so here i'm bound.

i know i control it, but they do too.
they keep it terrifying me,
a doom undue.

my father says he's haunted,
and insists that we are, too.
his cold eyes feign a faithless warmth
when he says we’ll make it through.

he says i'm causing it, that i brought it here.
sometimes i think he's more scared than i
(that's a novelty i'd revere) .

no satisfaction
'til everyone is driven away...
a blood-related exaction
isn't the ghost at play.

'cause when my spirit leaves,
there’s chaos in its place.
the house stays haunted
when i’ve been gone for days...

with all the time they’ve had to get free
they’ve only conjured condescending pleas
they’ve merely kept the ghost at bay,
thinking they’re better off that way.

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