November 8, 2025

Writing Practice 5: mother

when mother laughed on the phone 
her voice was shrill and careless 
and rubbed my insides 
like grated cheese 

my shame was red hot 
and i tumbled to the threadbare floor 
to hide my face in my hands 
wailing escaped in frantic breaths 
while marbled cold tears 
raced out hard and fast 

it was a child’s broken heart 

- les’nspired