growing up I lived in a minefield
where the slightest misstep
led to explosion after explosion
my mother had a hairpin trigger
and I often found myself
at ground zero
the aftershocks still echo
through my battered soul
and now that I have left
I find myself trying so hard
not to explode the way she did
that I find myself stuck
in a frozen implosion
just waiting for the super nova
and the eternity lost
in my self-created black hole.
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