The Mother of Kaos

Your face

     in my mind

hurts like splinters,

     and my heart is infected

on the inside.

Your voice cracking

     into me

          like a whip,

  a cat o’ nine tails,

without 8 more lives.

I hear you,

          calling me,


        “Hey Mom”

      Your voice

          so distinctive.

I press PLAY,

     but I’ve got my

          trigger finger

     locked quickly



Can’t bear to hear

     that sound,

  where your voice

      once belonged.

Now, it’s only silence.

And the Emptiness

     Goes on.

      And on.


This poem is about: 
My family


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