I am becoming my father
bent over the toilet
hacking out the roof of my mouth
I hear the noise that makes me
cringe in my chair
only now it is coming
from me
like a bum
into the gutter,
I spit.
Looking in the mirror
I push my glasses up with
one finger
and swallow deeply
I am becoming… something…
I watch as zits dance on my forehead in
mockery of a youth that’s
slipped out the back door wearing
pink socks
I am left
holding onto the cold bathroom sink
throat full of
phlegm
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