Mother’s little helpers made Mom feel like a free thinker.
Spent seminar time smoking sooty cigarettes,
Life’s been good to my Dad even though he’s a drinker.
Chemical reactions add to the stockpile of regrets.
Broken records line the floors like shell casings in the hotel room,
Music from shades of decades passed, a revolver, and a forty ounce.
Heavy petals plush with life how do you begin to bloom?
Unevenly in stages and at all times bold enough to denounce.
Nobody admits how many times their skin changes,
Cicadas dance out of exoskeletons and uncover their existence.
The myriad of voices one embodies endlessly ranges.
Summer’s end comes like death, life’s pièce de résistance.
A time to grow, learn to let go, and try to make the pain one’s own,
A journey where character and great spirit had a chance to be shown.
Alexandria doesn’t want the world to know anything about her.