Compulsive Engagement
The baby cries
A shuddering, screeching, howling force
that grabs her Mother by the throat,
shaking her like a ragdoll,
coughing, spluttering,
spewing spit and tears
flying from her face
The cries were
every other day at first,
then every day,
now every hour
or less
She knows now,
they won't stop
Until she finally makes it stop,
finally,
the only way she knows how
She crawls to the table,
opens her purse,
takes out her debit card
and scribbles the pin #
with the bloody tears
she's shedding
on the back
of the baby's
tiny hand
This is it,
there's nothing left,
the account's drained
and all she has left
is the knowing,
that they'll be back for more
and the cries will start
again
She empties her heart
of what was left of
her self/respect and dignity,
pulls the cord tighter
and kicks the stool away
with her left foot
Detachment, at last
Copyright © David Brown | Year Posted 2014
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