“did you know that when i was seventeen my sister tried to kill herself,” says my mother to the walls.
“she was 22 and she told me after that it was quieter in the hospital, a highway of wires erupting from her veins. she said that she remembers everything in fragments.”
“our mother rubbing her hands together till it burns only so she could feel something. our father arguing with the doctor outside, then suddenly collapsing into a chair, exhaustion written into his skin. and me, counting the number of petals in the glass vases on the window sill.”
“i remember there were posies and daisies and tigerlilies and violets, but not a single rose.”
the walls don’t answer, but my mother didn’t expect them to.
- my parents: blah blah blah
- that bitch i hate: blah blah blah
- that boy who doesn't like me: blah blah blah
- religious people: blah blah blah
- offended white girls: blah blah blah
- me: LOOK AT THAT THING IN THE AIR
- me: IT'S FLOATING AWAY
- me: I WONDER WHAT IT IS
- me: GASPPPPP
- me: IT MUST BE THE FUCK I DON'T GIVE.
you are ugly
you do not
thou hair black as night
thou eyes green as blades of grass
please have sex with me
theme by: heloísa teixeira