I am from midnight books
flipping through divorce-torn pages
making sense of Dr. Seuss rhymes
and “custody battles.”
Where the written word
meant more to me
than the spoken word
because my parents always said,
“Do as I say,
not as I do.”
I am from lost memories
and poetry
where obscure thoughts
were clearer than any
textbook-response or tautology
lectured to my little broken brain,
expecting me to grow up
get a job
hate the job,
and die with a 401K.
I am from the wild
with no rules,
no micromanagement,
no judgment,
no politics,
marching to a different tune,
where trees whisper sweet nothings
wolves lay beside my unhinged body,
and the sun graciously warms my face.
