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How much of my mother, has my mother left in me

Funny to have a John Mayer lyric sink so far into your stomach it makes you feel nauseous Pink flush face, alcoholic wetness.
Did she have something to say.

the knots so tangled in her abdomen too tight to loosen.

She was sick they told me,
but how could I tell them I already knew.

What words did she plan to write? That pen to paper.

Was it just the sickness or was there more she wanted to confess

I promise to be always honest with myself, to say exactly how and when I feel it.
That way that loneliness,
the black smoke that pours won’t leave that familiar a dark film on the rim of our glass Instead it will Dissipate.

I will feel lighter.

If I just talk about it, it can’t stain my lips

She is gone
And words were not spoken.
My body still vibrates, like her message was forced down my throat

Mothers sometimes have a funny way of teaching their little girls things.

This was mine.
Let’s talk.