August 2001 / Volume Two /Issue Two
Diana Cleveland
Mama cried herself to sleep last night
I heard it through the walls as I clenched tightly to the stuffed
horse she gave
me when I was 7
And I didn't know if I should get up and do something or stay there and wait for
morning to be broken
And mama's tear put me to sleep
And when I awoke she was broken
And now
Mama makes macramé with kleptos and schizophrenics
She's learning all the names of the new drugs for the coke heads
And they feed her mighty shakes just like they hand out milk to kindergartners
And I wonder when she gets home if I should ask her how her day was at the white
Mama fell of the wall
And all the king's daughters and all the king's sins
Can't seem to put his queen back together again
So we hand her over
Hoping this time it'll work
As we make another revolution around the circle
Here we go around again
We can't find a better place to punish ourselves for what she did
Time caught us unchanged
Little sister still boils over
She can't control the rage inside of her
Her screams pierce our neighbor ears
And she slams the door
Turns up Creed
And all I can feel is Michael Stipe stretched out crucifix style
Little sister's got Jesus in her room
Down the hall father's got a God complex
That must mean that I'm Judas
Cause all I can do is lie
3 times 3 times 3 times I lie here and wait
and I lie to her and wait till I have to tell her the truth
and is this why God/Father/whoever and whatever the hell you are
that my mother is staying in the white wing where they treat her
like a child
and I'm at home being mother
because I can't say to her but momma she is my Mr. Right?
Or is it to make me stronger
If you haven't noticed lord, I'm strong enough
Strong enough that I never have to feel another thing I don't want
to feel
I hate the strength you give me
All you've given me is apathy and the ability to die
And maybe that what's next
Place the cold steel against my skin
Push me past my human boundaries
But I can't do that now can I?
That's not who I am is it?
I'll never have the relief of being week
But momma's in the bathroom
The cold steel pressed against her fragile wrists
There's blood on the floor
There's blood on the floor
Mommy doesn't wanna live anymore
Makes me wanna bathe in her blood
Baptize myself in her insanity
So maybe I could understand
But we don't and we won't ever understand will we mother?
We'll just keep trying to put the pieces together
Duct tape and super glue
We need a life line from another realm
Pull it together for another ride, make another revolution around
the circle
To be broken again
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