Death Poem

Orphan

We are the children.
Cream to curse. In-

structed:

here ya go, go, here ya, here ya go, go, go

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

Did you say that? Well. I

did. Finally: where were you

when we died, our doll-

lips devoted to icons
we had no business

form-
ing?

 

About PB Rippey

Writer, wife, mother, activist, fortunate.
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Words do not escape you

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