Mum and I

are sitting

at our kitchen table.

The sun is full,

cascading into the room

dousing us with its warmth.

 

In hushed tones

we are attempting to discuss

my future.

 

She speaks to me

voice slowly rising with each

concerned thought.

 

‘I believe it’s best if…

But in reality Selina…

Just think about your future.’

 

With each sentence

I teeter closer to the edge

of insanity.

 

I launch back.

 

‘Does my happiness not matter to you?

So what if I fail?

At least I can say that I tried!’

 

With each blow of our banter

our voices escalate, until

we are roaring

at one other

to listen.

 

It is deafening.

 

Blind to rational thought

I rage

and launching from the table

I stomp off

toward my room.

 

Mum

is hot on my heels.

She is saying things,

but I am no longer listening.

 

Black,

black,

black,

Everything is black.

 

With one final scream,

I slam my door.