what does it mean, to grow up?
will I finally flush away my regrets
spewed out one after the other?
will the end come for my bitter roots?
will a halo sprout & I grow wings
when I discover my childhood self
looking up at me now, proud?
take a look, see my many wounds
I prevented from festering.
ignore the blood trail twenty years pouring
down from my heart into my hands.
I open a dry mouth & let the words run
out, a caught call shouted out, homeless,
& I reach for so much meaning
with so few fingers, splayed like knives,
until it drips down my throat, soaking me, & I drink
the syrup gratefully, full of guts & tears & lies.