Let's take some more. Let's act like strangers. Remind me of what I said tomorrow. I want to lay down and feel like my skin is slowly dissapearing. I want to make a boat from my bones and sail to Bermuda. But until then, I'll stay here and pretend that there will never come a time when I have to leave. Those wise and farmiliar hands. Those hands that hold my face and remind me that I have more than just a name etched into a stone. Those hands that have brought me the feeling of comfort and safety. Feelings I almost forgot. It is you.
You have made me unaffaid of the scales.
You have sat with me in a tin can and listene carefully.
In the morning rush you stopped and took a wiff of time itself and delivered it to your senses, all because i told you to.
I don't want to drink or smoke. I don't want to laugh or cry. I don't want to be asleep or awake. I don't want to stop or go. I don't want to leave or stay. I don't want to run or walk. I don't want to live and I don't want to die. I want to stay numb. I want to say nothing and feel nothing. I want to become nothing. And then I will truly be at peace.
This what seems to be, broken home, still brings tears to her eyes. They tried for us and they tried for eachother. But no matter what, water and oil don't mix. We don't hate them for it like she thinks we do. "I broke my promise to God" she says in shame. But she takes that more seriously than we do. She'll never stop regretting, and we'll never be able to thank her enough. She made the hardest decision a mother could make. And it was for the sake of her children. So they could learn to love. So they could grow up in peace. I never understood it when I was younger. But now I see. I am no longer the naieve little girl that believes everything goes as planned. My mother will never know what she has done for my family. At times she believes she broke us. But the truth is, she has really held us together.