Screaming is not to see outside yourself
Screaming at your children is to forget you’re their mother
You cover yourself in a fake fur
and get warm for a split second
at the fire burning their soul: your scream
which they hear:
“Mom is a monster”
“Mom does not love me!”
And it cuts deep into your heart too
because you love them
you love them as you never thought you could
you love them and you calm down
and you can breath and take a sip of water
you love them.
But you screamed. You lashed at them as if thery were a small you
whom you could send away so there is no witness
to your descent
into the imprevisible, new, uncharted moment.
You screamed so loud. So loud. So loud.