mother — creative writing

Mother - Part 3

Sometimes I lie in bed and fantasize about Death. I know Death must be a woman, her loving caress is much too gentle and controlled to be the heavy hand of a man. If I close my eyes and lay still enough, I can see Death. I wonder when she will come for me, and why it has not been sooner. Like all beautiful things, Death is cruel. Death plays with patience and toys with sorrow. Once I stole my mother's garden shears, and I considered forcing Death's hand. I should have known Death would not be a compassionate lover, but rather a heartbreaker.

creative writingLilo HayesOctober 5, 2020mother, daughter, relationship, murderComment

Mother - Part 2

My mother didn’t respond. She simply walked back inside and dead-bolted the door behind her. She stood behind the locked door and looked into my eyes. I could not tell you what she was hoping she would find. I myself searched every inch of her body for some sort of compassion or motherly love, something to give me a reason to still love her. She walked away before I could find what I wanted.

creative writingLilo HayesJuly 10, 2020mother, creative writingComment

Mother - Part 1

“I often regret the anger I harbored for my mother. Yet, I still cannot let it go. I have eaten anger for dinner for so many nights, it is all that's left in my stomach. I have washed my hair with anger for so long, it is now permanently woven into the braids of my hair. I have taken my tea with anger for years now, I am no longer pleased with just sugar. I am not sure how I would live without anger. How could I forgive my mother and give away my anger when I know there will be nothing left of me after?”

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