the past is a vast crack
that swallowed my mother
and spit me back
years later i stare down the crater
i kind of miss her
but i still hate her

between the incessant need for nurturing
and the violence of breaking free
i found a gigantic fault line
i started a tremor
and seismically ceased to be

behavior modification is slavery
they can never put those chains on me
the past is an ebbing tidal wave
that carried my father off to sea
after crashing down on me