svenniemannie

 Dear Mom, [I know this really isn't a letter like I promised, but you should be used to me giving less then I say I will] I'm going to feel bad, throwing you into the ocean. I'm going to have to clench my teeth, close my eyes, and grip my hip [because you're there, forever; in jagged scar tissue with upside down mountain capped M's and a blocky O, you're there, forever.] to keep myself from diving in after you and gathering you back together with the finest cheesecloth, molding you back together and filling you with all the beautiful things you've been drained of. I'll jam sea glass in your eye sockets and replace your weak bird bones wit