Foreign Word We Call Love

"What do you really love?"

"Love? I don't love. Because, as soon as I do.. some shit always seems to blow up in my face.. My moms is dead b. Dead. I ain't done shit to nobody and they killed my moms. My sister is gone and my brother got fucked up in the system. So don't fucking tell me shit about what I love. Cuz it's nobody. The only thing that's been stopping me from slitting my fucking wrist is this right here," she held up the blunt.

"Don't say that, cuz shit has a weird way of making its rounds, Ma." I walked closer to her.

I looked in her eyes and for a quick second, I thought I could see a spark, or even a fucking emotion.

She stared intensely in my eyes before blowing her smoke in my face and walking away.