From great pains blossom great feats

Read my mother's coffee kissed lips

Why would it matter that men cheat

For the virtuous are the victors she quips


Eyes downturned I muster the power

To press tears back into my eyes to contain

The retorts I have learned turning rosy glow sour

Hand over heart to hide the deep rorschach stain


Fingertips dig into soft flesh — still warm

Hot blood coursing through the body — it screams

The man who has made you has left you — half torn

Taking with him your secrets and — forgotten dreams


–Lost: Dad