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May 2016
In a dream,
she follows me towards
The crevice of the world.

My mother, indigo raging
like a sharp scream within my brain.

I would never rid of her peculiar grin.
Her smirk, a missile, seeks out
the errors of my ways.

But life after cunning life,
She finds me settling at the root
then cuts me off.

I sit sustained here
in the moment composed
and waiting on her return.

She is the real culprit
of my shadow.
And knows this strange abyss.

I choose to keep her away
In the silence between my breath
To begin loving her from afar.

In hopes that she will one day
find herself without a curse
And out of her mad little box.
All reverence for the mothers of the world. For they have given us life and bathed us into the light.
Tanisha Jackland
Written by
Tanisha Jackland  111/F/is still getting old.
(111/F/is still getting old.)   
361
   NuBlaccSoul, David Adamson and ---
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