the day i realized my mom was human, Caylah Graham

There was a point in time when I used to think my mom could fly. When the days would

grow old, and the moon still traced my steps home. A day came when my height towered over

her, and my neck strained to look for her wings. The glamour had cowered and what was left

behind was a woman that was just as broken as me. Trauma lingered behind almond-eyes;

the shine of tears I always mistook for flecks of gold. I no longer see the rain as a chance to

play. My silver-clothed friend, who always used to follow me home, now lingers in place.