deepundergroundpoetry.com

Jurassic

mumma is in the rocking chair
rotting and sweating and grey
a life in reverse she walks through my door
and kisses the wrinkled brow
as my skin shakes the shiver of cold
we wander through the gardens and the youth falls
from our toes  
into the soil
until i am running with two children and my mother
to an ice rink in hyde park
and creating energy balls
to throw from overprotective palms
we are back in the house I grew up in
hiding blades under magnetic plates
and hiding pills in the bottom of a bottle
shaken up
just in case
a backwards lifetime of bipolar
with the prettiest memories to retrace
to a courthouse with a will  
that i sign at nine
incase her spine kills her
or leaves her still
and i would walk her  
in a wheelchair to shop
carrying back with weak arms
ten plastic bags filled with food
and i cook burning fingers
as she likes fried eggs
i could never make fried eggs
but now i am a mutant in her tummy and it  
all kicks fast forward again
Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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