By Draco Amethystus
Mom sits on a ladder in the garage.
At first, I think my eyes see a mirage.
No, it’s real. She is sitting there alone.
A lump forms in my throat like a giant stone.
I try to speak, to implore her to stop.
She stares passed me up through to the roof top.
The rope is in her hand, some giant snake.
My child’s body begins to shake and quake.
It’s not the first time I’ve found her like this.
Each time is still like playing with Death’s Kiss.
I can’t remember what happened after.
I just know she came down from the rafter.
There were many more memories like that.
Living with her was living in combat.