to any and all the gods that i find trouble believing in,

there's a piece of all of you in that damaged boy

i pray to nothing in hopes for everything for him

he deserves all the love this world can give

yet settles for the tremble of my hand

holds my sweaty palms without reading them

simply embraces who i am

a creation of you, of this planet and its neighbors,

of the soil, of a lineage of love lost and nerves that are shot

provides patience when i frantically push him away

reassures me that people can stay

but not that he'll never provide me pain

oh, my damaged boy, i'm scared you'll let me fall in love

and then let me fall into history

a doomed pattern passed on for centuries

my mother, a rag doll

my sister, the reason for holes in her first and second home

unsteady fists and delicate beings

an elaborate dance a poet like me christens 

he values despair and suffering for the rawness of humanity,

or rather, a reflection of himself to regain control of his childhood

i value it for the strength it brings

but i am not searching for any more of such strength in these

fortune telling tea leaves

only scolds my tongue, its always bitter

kept adding honey just to get it down 

i'd rather just drink from the sink's tap for guidance

straight chlorine, hormones, flouride, and pesticides 

irritate my insides with toxins just to provide safety-- even then 

but left refreshed and with the taste of pennies on my tongue

and romance on my dying breath