Drowning
this isn't new. the sweetness, the love, the adoration. this has been ever present. they all share a body, so only us four know, but there are three moms - angry. blank. and sickeningly sweet. childish and affectionate, unsuspecting and unaware. she came out in good moods and seemed to have almost no memory of the other two moms. she came with praise and hugs and kisses and soft "i love my babies." the nicknames, the play, the voice that instantly told me -, she's happy, don't ruin it. don't ruin it for everyone. she's fragile. this mom doesn't still around for long, and she seems ever watching for a reason to switch. a reminder that everyone is against her, that she is hated full time even if she only hates part time. I would say I envied my father for loving this version of her, for feeling like he's gotten back the love of his life, while my sister and I's teeth start to chip from the force of biting our tongues. as the blood filled my mouth it reminded me of her words, thick and cloying, getting caught in my throat. when pressed to return her affections I choke on it. "don't you love me?" "of course" I gurgle, my lungs beginning to fill. I slit my wrists in attempt to get rid of the excess, this blood that no longer tastes like mine.
