“Mother stomps up” by Julia on the 20

Tuesday April 24, 2018
8:42pm
5 minutes
Says Mother
Laura Willwerth

Uninvited and flipping through the notebook left collecting mud on the patio.
Some things are not meant for mothers to read.
Did you mean what you said?
Did you say what you mean?
I would nod and tell her don’t you remember? You taught me well.
When we’d get mad about you smoking didn’t you know it was because it turned your lungs into yelling? Didn’t you know our anger was speaking for our fear that hadn’t yet collected its thoughts?
She would give me the bed off her back and sleep in a mold-heavy
yesterday so my boyfriend’s tall wouldn’t hang off the end
Nobody asked you to sacrifice yourself.
If she read that she would cry.

“Mother stomps up” by Sasha on a bench outside work

Tuesday April 24, 2018
2:02pm
5 minutes
Says Mother
Laura Willwerth

Down in the basement room with the door closed
Down in the basement in the room with the closing door
Down in the basement before it was my room
Hammock in the corner
Bed in the corner
My own bathroom five steps away

Down in the basement room with the closed door
I tasted love for the first time
I mixed salt with the male body
of this man body
of this boy

Ecstasy and sex on our lips
Frozen when we heard my mother’s steps
down the stairs
I was supposed to be back in my own bed
by midnight
What happens after midnight is different I guess
I guess that’s what she thought

A knock on the closed door
Shitshitshitohgodshitshit
Pull on shirt pull on underwear pull on this
new body of a woman a woman who is here and won’t go
away now won’t go back