by Hyacinth Andersen

We live in the same house
Pink brick, green shutters, rusty rails holding
up a roof, battered by the elements
hurricane ravaged 
with shingles ripped out by the dozens
and trees torn out by the roots 

To our parents
none of this matters
We are family -
flesh of my flesh 
blood of my blood
love's passion fruit

Yet, thin skin 
pulled over too-taut grin,
mouth watering and eyes glassy, 
awaits slumber - 
in order to lumber to  
pockets to loot

And though it's true
their blood runs through you
You are a stranger.
Influenced by drugs 
and excited by danger,
rendering our blood tie moot.

Stranger by Hyacinth Andersen

© Copyright 2015. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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