aleshka13swift
Mother, keep your change in that small ivory pouch, i say. you nod, but do nothing, as age takes its toll upon your withering senses. i remember you as a young lady, when i was a small girl. this pouch was always treasured for you. you told me these stories as i child, and i loved them. this pouch was always the basis of our bonds, mother. rest now, with your pouch. take it with you, and give this as your thank you gift to praise the lord. for as you will forever be with him.
Pouch, where mother kangaroo carries me to safety. It is hope, this pouch, and i am enclosed but warm, trapped but surrounded with love. It is fear that awaits along with death and loss. Love maybe, but i fear the day i must leave the pouch
slow me down. i am running far to fast, accounting to the belief ive failed you. i cannot bear it. lost in your smile, i see someone elses face. i have lied to you and continue to do so. i would kill to make this stop.
Accounting your bills on the table. It is such a shame that while you do this, i stand, staring at the knife on the table. how easy it would be to pick it up, and drive it in your back. it is too bad that i try and when i pick the knife up, i shake and it falls to the floor. you turn and i know i have made a mistake.
writing since 2011 · 5 entries · 2 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Lexi showed up.
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the words Lexi reaches for
pouchtablecarelovemotherbillschildhopeaccountingknifepickfearsitcantfocuspresence