Black drapes, square caps, let’s graduate.
Four years gone, gained, hood me.
My parents are not here yet.
Pray, people say.
My mouth chews and spits God’s faithfulness
To redeem all things—deceit
Under the pasty palate of my face,
brittle porcelain Krazy glued into place.
I plead, God help me;
I speak, God bless you.
This is the end;
I see the start:
College drop-off day.
You didn’t even hug me.
I waved at the back of your heads, quiet,
your clawing words swallowed by the elevator,
slurping up your fight.
You never said I love you back.
I locked my new door,
Thanked God you had left me behind,
The prayer is over.
I’ve stepped aside.
Someone else is up to speak.
Lord, when will they finally get here?
It’s not that I don’t know how to wait.
What’s a few hours more to a few years late?