Member Poem

Driven by the tides of life. Driven by
the days I shield myself from the sun with
tattered pieces of bandana & nights my pillow is
substituted with mama's arms. Driven by my
therapist's addiction to alprazolam. Driven
by father's praying palms. Driven by mother's
tears & sleepless nights. Driven by the
times I plant a boll of torment in her garden. Driven
by love. Driven by sacrifice. Driven by my friend's
ability to swim while I drown. Driven by my
ex-girlfriend's lover's Benz. Driven by all the promises
I made. Driven by Plath. Driven by patience. Driven by
the girl who waited so long for me in the darkness. Driven by
Plath. Driven by the tears of yesteryear. Driven by the gas that fills
the air when mother cuts onions. Driven by the days of yore. Driven
by Plath hoping this poem is not too confessional. Driven. Driven. Driven.