Because we need to be loved by our mothers:
It is an envelope with my mother's writing on it. Material possessions don't matter unless they are attached to people. I slept with her sweater when she was away. No one calls themselves an artist unless they aren't an artist. My ankles are often sore in the morning, as were my mother's. She called me her daughter. The warm air is liberating and sweeps away depression until depression gets use to the warm and the rouse is over. I look at him for every minute he is near me and I have no reason to stop. I love him and biting my tongue will only leave me with a mouth full of blood. I could and would and do admit that I am absolutely insane. But someone can feel the sincerity in me, and they have accepted me. He asked me once if he was the anti-christ. I feel as though he convinced me that i was.There is something that I lie to everyone about. Several things. My mother doesn't ever lie.
Because we want to be loved by our fathers:
I feel warm between my legs when they are crossed. At fifteen I slept near someone six years older then me and there was a police report about it filed near the ocean at 12am. My father is not a stern man;he created a dream land for his babies. We rebelled but never left the nest. He always brought us to the ocean to live and ultimately die. I have two brothers, one who has cut my skin, another whose skin I have cut. Our blood is all the same blood. I've never tasted it, but I know. When the birds are close by it is alright to laugh about the absurdity of life, and they are often close by. Sadness is a prison with no windows. My father cried, but he was never sad.
