Say it.Say it over and over and over again.Say it like a mantra.Say it like a magic spell.Say it until you believe it.Say it until it sounds wrong.Say it until the words twist in on themselves.Say it until it makes sense.Say it until your voice runs out.Say it until your throat is raw.Say it until you’re swallowing blood.Say it until you can’t breathe.Say it until it’s true.Say it.Say it.Say it.Say it until it stops being true.Say it.Say it.Say it over and over and over again.   This poem was published in the June 2013 edition of Open Heart Forgery.

Miss your parents. Be struck with deep, heart-hollowing longing for them at the oddest of moments. Wish your mother was there when you are trying to decide whether a striped shirt should be washed with lights or darks. Feel the absence of your father when you watch a good documentary. Call them for no reason other than to tell them you bought some new storage containers and the grocery store didn’t have any good avocados. Be annoyed when your mother does the same. Love when your father emails to tell you about a typo in the newspaper.Long for home. Be confused about what that means. Fly back to your parents’…