Back Words

Mom says I see the world backwards.
I see that the dog is god
Not is still a ton, you don’t slap your pals,
war is raw, and the reward drawer is always full.
She says it’s wrong to think this way.
Wrong. Gnorw.

That doesn’t make sense.

Mom gets stressed and eats desserts,
calls me an avid diva, an attention seeker.
She sets a time for me to emit remorse
and settles into her doom mood.
I faced the decaf she handed me,
I look at the mug, she chews gum.
She tells me to stop acting crazy.
Crazy. Yzarc.

That doesn’t make sense.

Mom said I was a star, but rats, I’m not.
She said I was proof the devil lived.
She says, just stop! Change, think different.
I hear – Edit the tide, repel the leper.
She says she’s my warder, ready to redraw me.
If you love me, she says, you’ll change.
Love. Evol. Evil. Live.

That I can make sense of.

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