No, but my tears would baptize you,
let the bitter-sweet salt stain your clothes
as a reminder of the day you told me that you would never leave,
let the empty bottles of laundry detergent serve
as breadcrumbs down the path, you ran away from me on.
"Does Your Heart Have its Own Language?"
I can only imagine it does, she weeps in silence &
has only started talking to my mind to confide in.
Only they had been friends often &
odds with each other since I was conceived.
It's almost funny when they decide to throw me into a
two-against-one war-style battle as if they do not
know they would always lose when they
use me as the battleground for their warfare.
