Gift

i have given my daughter the curse of thinking / intrusive thoughts which grind down the asphalt/ / her quiet place on the airport runway has been reserved / genetically / my sister my cousins either on ssris or self-medicating / i have decided to take the pills so i don’t weep or scream / i deserve this / my family deserves this // but my daughter thinks about death when she doesn’t want to think at all / i feel responsible for giving her these lifelong passes to the 3d horror escapade / stomach acid and future doom sequences en masse / she paints pools of blood but also young women in dresses and spring blossoms / and not together / she knows the rusty wheels and the chains of the night / she also has a supple voice which can sing and laugh over the jetnoise and sirens / i have hope for her / i hope her demons are kind to her / that they adopt her / that they become the faint ghosts i now hear in the halls