Visitation Time

Faint barks, evening, wind, and rain I'm standing outside these gates again staring at her long twisted cobbled grey She'll be pleading and crying for me to stay Teary-eyed,.. as I start to shake You see, it's my witching mother Changing eyes, I remember Each day a day in mid-November The whiskey called "screams," and her flaking skin Unrepentant and filled to the neck with gin she just sat there laughing at my nervous grin Those vile remarks and the things she'd say Throughout the evening of every day "you must stay with me forever, petals or I will bloody you with this iron kettle." I cannot push myself through these damn gates The fear of the,.. known I suppose those wretched toenails all overgrown feet that stink of death Old graveyard graves crooked amber teeth My dear mother, it's quite clear I resent you so Why do I still love you, you wicked old crow?