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Lindsey Pannor

I guess there was it wasn’t just    I only ever save photos of
the grimace that runs down     moms face    she and my sister don’t talk but what
if I gave     up all her hope successor                                    the cruel thing      a new child    
          would not be right to continue

can I claim this queer thing milk skin never pierced is it just
tourism true to bodyweight      on the rest of my organs, inside, sliming
        as though they were rotting away without somekind of peace to
          come to

everyday I move further from origin I want more and more to cut my hair off nearly to
the bit of it but I can’t crush the thing that runs back and forth from my mind to my body
and its teeming with same fear shame a crush that I have to disown them anyway can my
ethics coexist with my loving all the the hearts that beat within, my will confused combined
when knowing is so different from being the chasm cried unbridgable unbuildable here.

if we are self determined does this determining ride            on the shoulders of all or just me
what is that flag I can not tell    from what well I spring