Yum, mum.

for my sister

you are like a chocolate pie
filled. with. shit.
Yum, mum. Dig in.
Yet, maybe I'd prefer this
over steamed broccoli?

you hold your hand out to me
full of razor blades.
I shake anyways-- hoping my
fingers will embrace this time
each open welt, a red flag
of surrender.

on my 5th brithday, my friend Oanh
reclaimed the gift I'd unwrapped--
A Skipper doll, with c-cup boobs
and polka-dot hand bag.
I didn't want to keep when
her eyes welled up like glass.

orthodontists, pink antibiotics,
crispy chicken wing skin--
these are the things you provided me.
But what did I take

From you, I learned the art of Alchemy.
I took in your thick gut guilt
and vomited-out, shat-out
milk, honey, vodka.

You can't touch me with your filth.
I've already swallowed this earth's warm
mercury. My veins are full and satisfied.
oh Skipper. be strong.