mama doesn’t want to grow old.
bones breaking,
mouth drooling,
jaw slack,
some one to
clean you
change you
chew and swallow for you.
mama saw her mama
whither.
prisoner
of her feeble body,
jailed
by her failing mind.
a sliver
of a shadow
of her former self.
mama doesn’t want
to lose her mind
or be trapped
as her body
crumbles.
mama wants me
to cut her off
to unplug her
to give her the red pill
and release her.
but mama doesn’t
think about after
mama doesn’t
think about me.
because
when they ask
‘where’s your mama?’
i’ll just say,
‘mama?
mama’s dead.
i killed her.’