then i proceeded to say cousin, uncle, and father before i remembered the word brother, a moment of fragility,

i have my grandma’s genes

i got em from my dad

makes my roots dark and legs long

thighs bigger hair thicker

makes my fingers wiggly

and toes fat

every day i look more and more like my dad

if i was normal this would bug me

but i look like a man

so i guess i’m happy

i try to ignore the pain in my chest

and the stint in his

but it’s hard

cause i know my heart will go quicker

and our lives will end sooner

deal with it

i wear my cuts and scars

like jewelry

what phases them,

doesn’t phase me,

i’ve been through the forest,

the thorns on the vines

scratching my skin

as i try my hardest to ground myself

and get my life together,

i did this to myself.

“how could you?”

it’s a stupid question, really.

if you were in as much pain as i was in

you’d understand.

no i’m not necessarily proud.

but when everyone tells you you should be ashamed,

it’s hard not to be rebellious.

so i’m not proud but

they are a part of me,

i can’t change that.

so deal with it.

as the snow laid,

i thought about how my ears popped,

about how easy it was for us to wreck,

and how the deer wouldn’t know any different,

if it happened again,

and even though i knew that the amount of time it would take for anyone to notice i went missing would be a while,

my mind wanted to swerve,

my mind wanted to roll down the mountain,

my mind wanted to become a news article in the spring when they finally find my car with my body inside