Tonight
you look pretty for no one.
You stretch your fingers to Earth,
but Earth has had its fun.
Now
you hear echoes of voices,
names you thought you knew
soiled with other first name choices.
Mother,
how dare you birth me
in hollow heights of pale shadows?
From you I free.
I hear
nothing of you.
You cry in cobweb corners
you're your self's overdue.
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