Monday, December 17, 2012

mother



"I'm alone," she says.
"I want my mother."
 We rise like zombies from graves of blood that were made for us with love.
 Once risen we stumble, searching.
"I want my mother," she repeats and keeps her eye on the door but no one ever comes.
We were once babies, all of us, and we once cried for someone.  Some of us were rocked and heard soft voices in the night.  The rest of us stopped wailing after a time and wept inwardly instead.
"I am alone," she says.
And people walk by, holding hands, and she weeps
And people walk by, laughing, and she weeps.
Because something was lost, long ago
We travel forever down these bloody rainbows, attached to nothing

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