Piece By Piece, My Mother

I Have Wanted Everything As A Writer And A Woman, But Most Of All A World Changed Utterly By My Revelations.

Writing Is The Only Way I Know To Demand Justice From An Uncaring Universe.

Behind My Carefully Buttoned Collar Is My Nakedness, The Struggle To Find Clean Clothes, Food, Meaning, And Money. Behind Sex Is Rage, Behind Anger Is Love, Behind This Moment Is Silence, Years Of Silence.

Hunger Makes You Restless. You Dream About Food - Not Just Any Food, But Perfect Food, The Best Food, Magical Meals, Famous And Awe-inspiring, The One Piece Of Meat, The Exact Taste Of Buttery Corn, Tomatoes So Ripe They Split And Sweeten The Air, Beans So Crisp They Snap Between The Teeth, Gravy Like Mother's Milk Singing To Your Bloodstream.

I Wanted To Start Over Completely, To Begin Again As New People With Nothing Of The Past Left Over. I Wanted To Run Away From Who We Had Been Seen To Be, Who We Had Been... It's The First Thing I Think Of When Trouble Comes - The Geographic Solution. Change Your Name, Leave Town, Disappear, Make Yourself Over. What Hides Behind That Impulse Is The Conviction That The Life You Have Lived, The Person You Are, Is Valueless, Better Off Abandoned, That Running Away Is Easier Than Trying To Change Things, That Change Itself Is Not Possible.