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Sometimes, I think about the envelopes under the bathroom sink that you thoughtfully put away, to make your ends meet. I think of the little girl who dug them out, proudly helping her father to buy another handle. Sometimes, I think of the papers inside that Nike shoebox, tucked carefully under your side of the bed, out of sight. I think of my small self climbing underneath to sift and finding its stock cut in two at the week's end. Sometimes, I think of that check that I got for an award and how you allowed me to keep it, despite your circumstances. I think of younger you, as if she were myself, who was suffocating under the weight of a thousand worlds.
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Oct 15, 2024
Oct 15, 2024 at 8:57 PM UTC
To my mother
Sometimes, I think about the envelopes under the bathroom sink that you thoughtfully put away, to make your ends meet. I think of the little girl who dug them out, proudly helping her father to buy another handle. Sometimes, I think of the papers inside that Nike shoebox, tucked carefully under your side of the bed, out of sight. I think of my small self climbing underneath to sift and finding its stock cut in two at the week's end. Sometimes, I think of that check that I got for an award and how you allowed me to keep it, despite your circumstances. I think of younger you, as if she were myself, who was suffocating under the weight of a thousand worlds.
christianemarie
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Oct 15, 2024
Oct 15, 2024 at 8:57 PM UTC
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