odd thing # 17

everything 


angry spills of blotchy read ink
pouring out into the sink
my mother the sink
i the the glass
spilt over and draining
my past
she sits solemnly eating my attack
i scream with color and ruin her white face
alas

garbage disposal gurgling
trying to correct my splurging
resistance is
 my task
i spit into its churning knifes
sepereating once more
our lives

"you do not understand"
i focus on the task at hand
spilling my ink over
 the sand
soak it up, i dont want to hold it
my plan
when i have spilt
my last drop
burden is light and anger
stopped