heritage

Joseph Soares

basalt rock flows out the holes in the wall

you punched in your parents' house in ‘93

filling a space left behind

by grief for boyhood.

we all just want to feel full sometimes,

even if that means praying on our knees

anger is a funny beast,

especially when it's genetic or learned,

but it's nothing compared to fear,

and isn't fear the basis of anger?

for what is there to be angry about

if it isn't for fear of what's to come?

father,

our relationship is strengthened

by the things we can’t even

tell ourselves

but we mutely confide in each other –

how you’ve always had

a favorite

or how i took a few

of her pills

(that damned weekend in ‘09)

now whether this was

the beginning or the end

is unclear to me

what is clear is that we

can’t go on like this forever

what happens when we gas out?

do we just live in purgatory,

punishment for the projects

we never finished?

or do we find our way,

crawling on hands and knees

nails caked in dirt and blood

until someone takes us in

Joseph Soares is a writer from Ottawa, Ontario. He mainly writes poetry, often revolving around the themes of transness, madness, and addiction. His microchap Life Again can be found at Kith Books. He also has work out with en*gendered lit and an upcoming CNF piece with The Viridian Door.