My mum gave birth to brothers and I found my sisters myself.
Poppy in combat
with the mirrored vision of inadequacy echoed through
her mother’s ears,
peppered by her father’s mouth.
Thank goodness home gave me a place to call sanctuary, some toast to melt into, when I was frailer and more nervous than I am now, and when water could wash me away.
A place to build my layers and spread my branches skyward in the courtyard.