thoughts to regret
every word is a regrettable one. day turns to night and you've missed the anniversary of your brother's death. your chosen mother bites back her disappointment, the unspoken begging for life in her words. "don't worry about it. you made me a mother. that's all i can expect.." every word is full of unspoken expectations. of all the people who best the odds, she wishes that i had been him. she knows as well as i do that he was stronger than i am. she knows that i'm not made of the same stuff - like her family says, i'm adopted. how could i be hers? i didn't make her a mother. i made her a mother like any word can be a verb; as if no one had ever made it an action word before you did. i came into the world kicking and screaming for something i didn't know i had. forever loud, insatiable, and full of questions - asking was my calling card. i'd ask the same questions over and over, as if the answer would change in a ten-second vacuum. &q