Three monumental heads

Upon a land that you wish you had never seen.

One, the family that made sure you didn’t have one

Lying, manipulating, and cackling like a bunch of birds

Then shitting all over the ground below them

Not even realizing what trash they are.


The second a reason for feeling so very alone

Not meant to have the comfort of love

By anyone.


The third is the fight within

The struggle to walk away

From everything that does no service.


Fighting all three simultaneously

Aching in the middle of the night for some peace

Like death

Yes, when do I get that reward?


Like a flower blooming in the middle of winter

People look and say

“What the hell is that doing here?”

As if it requested the audience

Or forgot to ask permission

To bloom.


Three battles lost in life

Lost because they were given to a woman

Without the strength

To continue to fight them.