45

Filial Forlorn

your susurrus of odium are like daggers
imbuing through my fortifying door;
every syllable you utter
every tone you muster
prances into my fragility
sprinkling prickers as dowry

just goad me in the heart, father
goad me in the heart, mother
banish me from your arc
rend me apart

so I could embark
into nothingness.