109/365: The Cuckoo Who Became the Nest

I don't know how to battle her,
this machine that wears me,
the machine I use.
How does one a love a stranger
who usurps the only worldly space one knows?
The cuckoo who became the nest?
It is a game of waiting.
Her mortality frees me.

I am writing one poem every day in 2016, and I am using the hashtag #365poems to document my progress.