The sky burned black like coal,
Ambers rolling from the heavens, consuming whatever was in sight,
Scorching the sound of the lost ones
And the bitter, unbroken one.
My mother—she was born in the Sun,
Generational pain,
Generational hate, and rape.
Split lip, broken speech, lost thoughts.
🐇𝕊𝕥𝕖𝕡𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕖