i should've listened to my mother when she was talking to me about omens and premonitions like how the glass slid off the tabletop that day and i went out anyway
i should've listened to my mother when she was talking about lucky numbers and feng shui like how we met on friday the thirteenth "mom, you're being cheesy, there's no such thing."
i should've listened to my mother when she was talking about colours and hell like how black skies were signs of demons the ones that aren't quite like the ones in my head.
i should've listened to my mother when she spoke of trembling hands and death like how i shouldn't have left an hour earlier that day because the dishes broke in the sink and my father decided that wasn't a good enough reason to stay.
superstitions haunt our daily lives whether we admit it or not. and i'm scared that this will happen one day. it seems superficial. but this fear eats away at me. and you. it scratches at your jugular veins. one of the most personal things i've ever written.