The Laminate Floor

I’m not sure what it means when you mark up the eggs that way..

2 min readNov 28, 2018

(as found on publishousnow.com)

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I’m not sure what you mean when you mark up the eggs that way/

Dark x’s in permanent colored ink, placed right in the middle of the flavored contraption, how odd.

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Do I take the risk then, peel the egg half way only to discover

it has not been cooked properly and it had spilled over on the laminate floor?

I know that would create a space of fright over my mistakes, an entry point to point out my lifelong mistakes.

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I’m not sure what you mean when you have broken up words

pierce through my insides,

are they truly coming from your forlorn heart,

a hatred that runs so deep,

it has found its crevice from the communists that you fled
in the streets of Poland, nineteen hundred something
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Is this hatred your love?

Is this hatred, your love?

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You are my sibling and I am proud,

amidst insults to my face and my dignity about who I really am,

the chalkboard of who I really am.

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I was never the girl that you wanted,

the woman whose image I failed to achieve,

yet true love never had to hide,

so what remains hidden, in your mind’s eye?

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I am at peace in my heart with this failure,

I am finally,
at peace.

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