Shlii

Mother, I don't understand. What's happening to me? These inky days bleed together, grow wings and flutter away. They slip through the snaking cracks of my brittle mind. Mother, help me catch them. I'm lost in a raging sea of dark thoughts. And there's no guiding light to bring me back. Are they memories? They float to and fro, overlapping and slapping against the back of my eyes. You don't understand, Mother. But, dear, I'm not your mother. I'm your wife. Remember?