as the woman who brought

as the woman who brought me into this world lay still in the bath tub , she moved, arms suspended in the water, ears just above the line.

Bad tones throughout my upbringing, and not bad as in awful home life. just bad as in sad. cold. damp, wet, claustrophobic, left behind, waiting for it to end tones.

Like a song that makes you feel strange.

The tones that painted my youth and painted my mothers. 

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