|
broken butterflies
Mathew was up late last night as usual. He was awake when all of you were sleeping, talking to himself like a riddled lunatic..some things are best left unsaid. This morning I found my son laying in a heap of pillows. "I just want to feel like I'm floating"...but i had to pick him up and tell him, one last time- that clouds arent pillows and that only balloons know how to float. He just stared at me- with that innocent look a bird might have.
He wrote me a letter about sunshine, how he was the happiest boy to have a mother that rose every morning in a beam of yellow light, like a buttercup. he smiled the biggest smile for me. He isnt happy, but he knows such a thing exists. Even though he's surrounded by "vampires". "Im going to bring you the moon in a basket, then you'll see..."
"See what?"
"See what it means."
Mathew exaggerates sometimes. I know he's just a little kid with a big imagination. No use crying over spilled milk but "Mommy doesnt know.." he'll say to himself "Mommy doesnt know how to cry."
But neither does he. He's incapable of crying and he's always been that way. Not a tear for mommy. But i love my son, even though sometimes he makes me feel like a vampire.
|
