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Cry On Demand
#Cry On Demand
When I want to cry, I think of my mother. The memory of her so immediately sweet, it was the first to betray the illusion. A smother to me, sickness draws up from my stomach, how wrong it felt, when I came to this dastardly conclusion.
At night I think I dream of the womb. At the end of death, it is that organic tomb that returns me from where I came.
I am apart of her, as she is apart of me, so I could not depart from her easily, I could not sail a sea. I could not climb a mountain, I don't have the courage to cleave.
10 years spent in her shadow, learning to grow off scraps of...
When I want to cry, I think of my mother. The memory of her so immediately sweet, it was the first to betray the illusion. A smother to me, sickness draws up from my stomach, how wrong it felt, when I came to this dastardly conclusion.
At night I think I dream of the womb. At the end of death, it is that organic tomb that returns me from where I came.
I am apart of her, as she is apart of me, so I could not depart from her easily, I could not sail a sea. I could not climb a mountain, I don't have the courage to cleave.
10 years spent in her shadow, learning to grow off scraps of...
