The Miss



This week arrives 

Like heat on ice 
The impact of my heart disintegrating 
It weakens and remains solemn
I miss you sweetie
And the miss within is raging 
Its teeth are cutting 
Its fangs are slashing 
Its eyes are stinging 
Its throat is a compilation of rocks
Stuck on memories
To force a stop 
Don’t tell me to capture the moments 
The miss is still angry
Remembering craddling her lifeless daughter
Is that what you want me to see?
Years later 
The miss is sicker than ever 
Oh no!
The aftershock of disaster
Rolling through my busted structure 
Why why why…
It’s maddening, I’ll never know 
I just float in this miss
Covering and curling me in
Losing my daughter
Losing my skin 



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23 thoughts on “The Miss

  1. The raw innocence of rage and compassion, beauty in memory, and your ability to channel this in such fluid language is your only reward, yet, for all of your readers, we don’t know, we simply want to know by your honesty. We know we cannot. Peace!

    Liked by 1 person

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