m
literature

my mother

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By psyence-a-gogo   |   Watch
0 0 33 (1 Today)
Published: April 13, 2009
is a force to be reckoned with
creates warfare
if crossed
yet calms me
so easily
smells like lavender
crushed and crumbled
laughs like water
running off of smooth stones
looks like a woman
who's had so much life
is missed
all of the time
by me.
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© 2009 - 2019 psyence-a-gogo
mummy <3
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The Third Sibling
I don’t know why I assumed it would be a boy. Intuition, maybe. Or perhaps, little brothers were all I knew. My third sibling paused in the first trimester and never hit play: a frozen picture on the ultrasound. Mom came home, stole to bed, and shut the door with a clack soft as thunder. My third sibling is a silence, forgotten outside the quiet moments alone, when I wonder what his name was.
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He tied piano strings to his heart, so that every time it beat it didn't sound so empty inside. But the music in his heart couldn’t permeate the hollow air as the metronome kept time for the clock. One, two. One, two. Reedy notes plummeted from his lips as he made me pluck out Tchaikovsky and Bach when all I wanted to play was twinkletwinklelittlestar. "I'm just a little girl." My fingers tripped and stumbled and I know that I could never play as well as he needed me to; I could never keep his notes from slipping off the page. White and black sideswiped my fingers, as I struck one chord too many. "I've always wanted to
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