damage control

My passing jug of cold brew,

the places I’ll never go back to,

an Earth-burdened bruise, right,

offended by my humanness,

burnt shoulders, crossed

 

Why haven’t my gills grown in?

The underwater world awaits,

faking patience

 

Where are the hills, the hills

that made me feel alive

 

Damage control is

fingers breaking one by one,

an arm I cannot lift

 

flowers will grow here soon