I gave birth to my mother yesterday.
*There she is- running around,
laughing about- dead dolls in
hand, yellow hairbands and
blue tees.*
Perhaps she was not mine to
give birth to- perhaps I was
hers.
I had painkillers for breakfast.
To-night, I dine on my mother's
soul.
I dined on whispers yester-night.
To-night, I write the stories.
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 3:26 AM UTC
I gave birth to my mother yesterday.
*There she is- running around,
laughing about- dead dolls in
hand, yellow hairbands and
blue tees.*
Perhaps she was not mine to
give birth to- perhaps I was
hers.
I had painkillers for breakfast.
To-night, I dine on my mother's
soul.
I dined on whispers yester-night.
To-night, I write the stories.
