The Blood’s Blueprint
by Stntes
· 07/11/2025
Published 07/11/2025 11:12
The words came out sharp and specifically mean,
a hook in the throat that I’ve heard once before.
It was my father’s cold logic, jagged and lean,
spilled on the floor by the passenger door.
I saw her face flinch in the green dash-light,
and I caught my own jaw in the mirror’s thin glass.
Clenched like a fist in the middle of the night,
watching the ghost of his cruelty pass.
I swore I would break every bone in the line
before I let the old venom leak out of my mouth.
But here is the blueprint, ancient and fine,
steering the car and my heart to the south.