firstdraftttt

As a young poet, I don't curse my father, my brother, or my mother. In fact, I feel indebted to them: my family, my friend, my foe, lover alike. Without them I wouldn't be. Without them I wouldn't be me.
As a young poet, without them.
As a young poet, me.
Through love and hate, and all they precipitate,
I shiver and run til I shake
assuredly firm hands with fate
So that, together, sorrow, spite, and splendor dissipate.