the walls are painted something between
peach and
pink
looks warm
i'm in a
crib
through the
cool white bars to my left i see mom
the
dark wood vanity
Noxzema
i make
a small noise that i've learned means "I want some fucking milk!"
mom leaves
i have a clear view of her
mirror on the wall
the mirror contains
deep thoughts of reality
the complexity f
rightens me
i should
look away so i won't be forced to think about mirror universes
anxious
mom returns, interupting my view and
thusly, my thoughts
mom gives me a
bottle
it's
sour
i don't know the word i should use to tell her, "Bitch, this shit is rancid!"
i say "
hot"; a word i
do know to express "Bitch, I can't drink this!"
she takes it away and returns to her
make-up
she's
mad
she should be
i'm stupid
just another
day log. move along now...