On The Last Day I Will See The Sun

after the angler fish who wanted to see the light she didn’t make herself

mom, I remember when you told me to be brave

when I said I didn’t like the dark 

I’m all teeth and rot,

gruesome in my own light

grown out of lechery, not out of pride

a beacon of deprecating pit of murk

I’m not as mighty as you are, mom, my lantern not as bright

mom, have you wondered where beauty swims?

I saw it once when I was alone, adrift, tiny, insignificant

tired of living a light none could follow

is this the life I should pursue? of being othered,

stuck on being stuck with a parasite,

fused into me, monstrous

sucking the life out of me

bearing his children

what if I don’t love them as you love me?

mom, this pressure is suffocating me

of the filth of this earth, of my own

this place is not made for us, no longer

I’m too hungry, too starved

of what I can be 

        I can have

        I can see

        I may never know

is this wanting just stubbornness?

will it deplete me in the end?

mom, what will it cost me

to gnaw against the water

to let my body battered and bruised

to chant Iwillnotletdeathkillme

to live for life?

will it cost me that much

to see the woman who shines in the dark and shines in the light

and ask them how does it feel to be beautiful?

so mom, I really must go

the scraps no longer satisfy me

I’ve kept whole too long,

by the depth pressing in.

I want to let go, and I want you to, too.

I will swim, I will fly, unafraid

just for a glimpse of glimmer

a light blue under a bright yellow

and other colors

I have never gotten the chance to memorize the name of

(20 February 2025)