i cannot make my mother love me. this is a heavy thing to
carry. a child does not want to leave, how great the pain
must be to drive her to make such a choice. i cannot make
her safe, i cannot make her kind. my mother loves me
with a club. i go to her
to be bludgeoned. when she holds me,
i taste like tears. she asks me to apologize
for leaving blood on the carpet.
A place for stories about chronic illness, disability, mental health, and neurodivergence.
