Story of my mother’s life

“Hattie-Jean, that one-eyed bitch,
burned me with a cigarette
when I was a baby,” says my mother.
My own life, though I am unhappy,
content in my depression,
and satisfied in my margin,
is no such unallayed misery
as that. She points to her chin,
where the dim depression is,
says, “That’s not a birthmark.”

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~ by Jeremy on June 30, 2013.

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