I am my mother's daughter. The passing of time has dulled the edge of my senses. Last Thursday was the 16th anniversary of her death. For years now it passes by without my notice. I used to long for this day. When it wouldn't be upper most in my mind.
But then I am reminded again.
Like yesterday, the other red headed November born majestic, who lost hers a year after mine to the same.
Like today, finally allowing the volcano of rage to erupt after keeping it under control. Control. Always keeping control. I'm so good at it, like my mother. I wish I weren't.
They say that people who keep things inside get cancer. Being eaten away from inside. That's disgusting. Who the hell are "they" anyway? |
