Life Scribbles

The little girl, only twelve, did not know what to do anymore.

Her mother was a crumpled mess of smeared mascara.

And every morning when the little girl awoke, she

would tuck her beautiful mother,

whose emerald eyes, once sparkled with intrepid life,

into bed.

Racked with worry, she asked;

“Mother, why do you always go to sleep as soon as the sun rises?”

“Because,” her mother choked.

“When you have been down in a dark place for too long,

you become afraid of the light.”

The little girl did not understand.

One day, she would.


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