mother

my mother is dead, and yet she still breathes

her soft hands were always cold to the touch, but now they lie still

those cold hands used to stroke through my hair and rub my back and my skin would prickle and pull away, i do not know why

a hand on my right shoulder caused me to shift to the left

"please don't touch me"

the leftovers in the fridge go bad, because she was the only one who ate them and she no longer eats

my mother is dead and now i am the mother

she's been dead for a while, all my memories of her are tinted with moments of her death

my mother once told me that when she found out i was a girl, she was not disappointed but incredibly sad

her mother was dead and she knew she would die too, and i would die and my daughter would die

bad genes

my mother's hair thinned as she stroked her hands through mine

i am mother and i am dead

i lie next to my dead mother and die too

before i become someone else's dead mother

i killed her the moment i was born

i want to break the cycle but i have already died

i am a mother with a mother and no child