Ongoing
I wish to learn how to speak in such a way
that perhaps the words would go straight into my father’s brain
One clean trip
to make him understand
letters on paper
wouldn’t make a frown disappear
it wouldn’t build confidence
make my worries float into the air
it wouldn’t be a magic eraser
that could blur every memory that hurts
It’s not going to build me friends
or be what I’m worth
It will not cut off my tongue
and restrict my words
A letter is a letter
It’s not life or death
Even though
you may think
it is.
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