Family Illness

By @LBroil

Family Illness

By @LBroil

One view of why a family sticks together despite clear differences

Chapter 1

You chose this psychosis.

Stole the pen then

penned diagnosis,

wrote this. Lie, Moses,

prophet of the chosen,

the children of the streets

eat up deceit and the beat.

Beat cops hear the drop of your feet.

But you know, this

part of the process:

prognosis don’t look good.

You’re almost done.

Each scene a rerun.

We run. The son

and the heir don’t belong here.

Can’t breathe, can’t see,

can’t love me

when you’re above me

in your insanity.

This is no place for a family,

but we weave and leave

the threads of our lives

in your lies,

our psychotic compromise.

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