What story do you tell yourself?
Your mother abandoned you?
Your twin died so you are forever fragmented?
What do you deserve?
You worked hard today
So you deserve a hot fudge sundae?
A car for your sixteenth birthday,
Your father to pay the maintenance?
Do you deserve happiness?
A grateful child?
Your father’s life insurance policy
That he unfairly willed to PETA?
Do we all deserve to be happy?
Are there people who deserve to die?
Are we the builders of our circumstances?
This morning, the air was wet and heavy.
A grasshopper clung to the screen door,
While the cicadas commenced to drill.
My story begins there.