"Kezia, my darling, please never forget this world's got the substance of a frozen summer silhouette," Said my mother through lips that were cracked with love and toil before she added, "the warmest of blankets is six feet of soil" She had a perfume called Pride that smelled a lot more like Shame When she walked into the room I was sleeping, heard her curse my father's name; It was our situation, our position, our gender to blame It was the lonely grey of my father's eyes staring back in the mirror's frame "Mother, I'm shaking while I write, tonight I'll stay awake and try to breathe away my fright There's a letter waiting for me that I have yet to read cause I know it's not from you And you're the only one I need, I'm tired and I'm cold and I want to go to bed But there's no one here to tuck me in, so the shotgun will instead"
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