Sojourn at the hinterlands of a fog casket awoken to be suffocated put to sleep to dream within a dream the nightmare of a mother's fear
depression is so easy to slink in so wary of all those palpable sins like being yourself -
awoken to be suffocated put to sleep to dream with a dream the nightmare of a mother's fear where pink haired ladies talk about my dissonance
within a dream about the nightmare of my mothers self punishment -
for birthing me questioning if it was the right decision
if I was born to suffer this fate
so i wake in the land of dead people who's limbs fall apart as they're names are called out by the concierge
to my voice as whisper to my courage bubbling underneath a mother fearful of coming close forgiveness is a blessing and the tears flow
out of the eyes of a child onto the cheeks of a woman who's life was molested by other peoples sanctions a woman who stood tall for the voice of others children and elders who encouraged chance meetings to be themselves via magazine clippings and a mother afraid to come close and a child still living the actions of a ghost looming at her with wide eyed slanders of " you ****** up , you ******* you **** up at everything"
it's difficult to look it's like watching someone be strung up naked tied to posts and the spaces between their fingers sliced their yoni sliced their ******* sliced their heart beating wide eyed screaming silenced.
My mother who birthed me whom i respect for all of her showings no matter how ****** up
strung up and the vision is blinding. and we're both crying but i don't tell her because it's lunch time and she's ****** up again.