blood, sweat, and tears

Angles, angels
I used to mix up angels and angles
The spelling got me
English was hard to learn especially Since i didn’t really want to learn it

Once, twice, thrice
I still don’t find it fair that thrice isn’t a thing

I’m walking tomorrow

For my mother who never even got to high school
Who frowns whenever I’ve put my schoolwork over cleaning my room 

I’m walking tomorrow 

The bond of siblings doesn’t quite make sense,
Because I will go half hungry so they can eat the other part of my sandwich,

The simmering heat of anger that a sibling can make you burn with can be quite questionable,