am I at peace with the aftertaste of death?
these are temporary feelings I will always remember this night I smoked my first independent cigarette *Drumroll* boohoo were you...
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pieces
“Someone you haven’t even met yet is wondering what it’d be like to know someone like you.”
― Iain Thomas
[what's in a name?]
but you can call me mo
it's the nectar of mangoes that thickens my mornings
I make breakfast before the sun is up
I stroll into the kitchen,
half asleep and hungry
my limbs can navigate the space with eyes shut
I'm surprised my breakfast
[a mash of watered oats with fruit and nuts]
can taste like heaven's mango tart.
and then I look at myself in the mirror
find a coal river for hair with young strands
of silver moonlight
my body is slowly transitioning into unexpected curves.
less than 22 years and I'm alive,
health thriving, nothing has killed me,
sometimes a broken heart,
but never a broken spirit,
my soul lives for morning breakfasts and
fast flowing poetry,
this is what I'm here for.
​
and these are my words for you
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