"How did we get here," she mumbles in a sleepy tone.
I looked at her from the back seat of the car, not understanding the question. We're lost?
"I thought... I thought we were headed north, but we are going south." This time her voice was raspy, tightly wound, as each word echoed through me.
"Mom?" I smiled with perfect balance, letting my teeth coordinate. "Can we get some food? I am sorta hungry."
She looked in the rear view mirror with a crippling look. A fierce dance between, endless suffering, and something known as grace.
"Moooooom, can you please just listen!" This time I grew impatient, maybe it was my way of defense, against the way she looked at me.
Like I am just another task, another burden.
But
maybe,
It was just the hunger.

YOU ARE READING
allergic
PuisiA bunch of poems. -none of the art is mine You're gonna wanna read this 100%