HEIR LOOMS

 //You have your mother's eyes 

but father's cruelty 

You have your mother's lips 

but father's tongue //

Mother's collect heartaches in their eyes, Father's in their almariahs.

And we curious children dig them up and make it ours, the little black treasures. 

But we don't share them with each other because they are not soft as headphones.

We keep everything to ourselves and dress in sapphires and laugh.

We are drowning but won't hold each other's hands.

While we kiss we swallow sweetness of strawberries, because fears are kept under our throats. 

We hold on to little mercies like a brown eyed puppy, for the sake of being not looking insane. 

At nights, I we want the bed sheets to warm us and not to tempt to strangle ourselves.

We are magicians turning bloody palms sticking to wine glasses into manicured nails.

We let lullabies made of flower crowns to take a are of bullets trying to escape our skulls.

This is the photosynthesis we are a part of, passed as a heir loom and soon 

to be passed to innocent smiles. 

We are  fragile dragons 

in search of an epic 

where we are heroes, not villains.

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