the end of girl land.
i realized there was nothing i could do for my mother.
too heavy for her years and experience.
we kept each other alive.
we wore matching dresses.
the beginning of the story.
we were a force.
it was very grey, very dreary.
it was around 4 p.m. in the afternoon.
she’s wearing your best sweater.
the gift of grief.
regret and depression.
she is never plain.
jackson, mississippi, 2007.
the souvenir of pain.
