What a kindness she showers upon me, not letting me skip any steps, or leave not even one stone un turned. What a mad trust she has in this broken stumbling lover, unwavering she ignores my ramblings about limitations, about my longing for a tiny bit of glitter.
You asked for freedom didn’t you, she whispers, as she pours me another glass. Drunk, naked and bruised I crawl to the table again and again. Yes mother, more, I give everything for just one more sip of your exquisite medicine of the real.
Art by @kris_davidson_ ( deep bow )