Alleles By Heather Kays

We don’t choose the deck —

it’s a goddamn dice roll,

spinning through the hands of gods too drunk to care.

My mother’s poison—vodka-stained veins—

passed down like a fist in the dark,

a genetic lottery where you’re either lucky

or bleeding out on the floor before breakfast.

I taste the bitterness of broken promises

in every sip of whiskey,

the silent scream of DNA

folded tight like a loaded gun

in the pocket of a man too scared to shoot.

It’s not blood that makes us—

it’s the scars that twist beneath,

the alleles of rage and tenderness

locked in a cage fight,

and me?

I’m the bastard child of luck and collapsed myth.

Some nights I wear my flaws like a second skin—

rough and ragged,

a map of every bad decision

etched deep into my flesh.

Evolution is a happy accident—

random mutations in every direction.

That’s the science of survival.

That’s nature. That’s chaos.

This life?

It’s a goddamn gamble,

and I’ve been dealt a hand full of bruises,

but I’m still here,

still throwing the dice,

still betting on the chaos

to make me whole.

Heather Kays is a St. Louis-based poet and author passionate about writing since age 7. Her memoir, Pieces of Us, dissects her mother’s struggles with alcoholism and addiction. Her YA novel, Lila’s Letters, focuses on healing through unsent letters. She runs The Alchemists, an online writing group, and enjoys discussing creativity and complex narratives.