“The colors outside keep on changing, they never stop dancing. For days now I’ve bee
“The colors outside keep on changing, they never stop dancing. For days now I’ve been caged, hidden away by my fears, from whatever is out there calling me. Mother’s voice on Christmas morning, or maybe when my birthday used to fall on the weekend, calmly waking me up so I didn’t lose one second of joy, running around, feeling loved by all the adults I didn’t even remember to know calling to say sweet things or at least polite things. But there was that one day, money was tight and my grandmother had just died, mom was carrying too much and we didn’t notice until years later, but she felt alone, but still were responsible for us. She was trying to cook for Christmas Eve dinner, my brother and I were running around the house and making noise. She just screamed at us, I can’t remember what she said, but I know it was loud, new. She yelled often, but normal stuff like ‘“don’t play with that machete, get off, DON’T GO DOWN THE HILL ON YOUR BIKE’’, her voice probably saved my life more times than I can count. But not that morning, that morning she just needed time, space, but it was hard communicating it to a hyperactive 8-year-old. So we went to our room…” Link for the whole piece in bio. (em Mars) https://www.instagram.com/p/CHVJzmIFfeD/?igshid=lkww7jhxm2uu -- source link