The last 3 letters of the spring

yellow flowers in my vase
losing petals
Was it so hard to say: I am sorry, I want you back

I was always ashamed 
of my imagination
The blueprint—my father
He was a lonely child
visibly annoyed whenever I'd refuse to be one
reality of two
It was you and me
Is it too late to be stating the obvious? 
Tell me, child, what does that teach you?

falling in reverse as if I were
that man who once
promised her the world
as if I were the butterflies dying
in her stomach
the stomach you've laid your forehead on
relying on the resilience of a woman’s womb 

undervalued

I always knew that life would kill me, I just never thought it would take so long 

Can I say something? How much rejection is there to swallow? 
I know you miss it too. I know nobody does it like that
I know you were always ashamed of my special 
gift
I know you know I am 
no shit

The blueprint—my mother
She has always needed a parent of her own 
visibly annoyed whenever I'd refuse to be one

What does that teach a child? 

Everybody knows I've always loved 
the yellow flowers