I am my mother’s daughter.

Sometimes I do things that I remind me of her. It isn’t her of me.

I act out her mannerisms. And sometimes I embody them too.

I have her shoulders, her torso, her hands.

We share secrets when we laugh.


Sometimes I arrive in PA to newspaper clippings of tattoo removal doctors. Complete with coupons.


We had a row when I got that nose piercing. I still think my sister was the most disappointed though.