onamothswings

[onamothswings]

46 minutes

it’s 7:14 already

she can call starting 6:30

yesterday, she was five minutes early.

so i sit by my phone

and even though my ringtone is on and at a high volume, i check it.

as if that will make her call.

i shouldn’t be the desperate one,

i’m dreading this call.

i’m tired of being the supporter when i can’t even fake a smile

i can’t make my bed or put clothes away

or brush my hair or not lose things.

i cant pretend to be fucking fine for her.

so i don’t know if i want to talk to her. im dreading it.

maybe that’s why i’m so paranoid about it.

it’s 7:18 now.

her time to call is over at 7:45.

she’s probably talking to someone else right now, her parents, a different friend, whoever.

she doesn't need me right now. (that’s good, right? it doesn't feel good)

but i’ll check my phone until 8:00.

[onamothswings]

what is wrong with me

mom asked me

what is wrong with you

i take too long on little things

easy things

i don't think she realizes

that my bones feel like lead every morning

and the sun no longer warms them

and my heart aches always

so i curl in a ball to escape

i sleep because its like death

i stare because i can’t cry

last night i was going to kill myself

i started-

-and then i caught my own eyes in the mirror

i made eye contact with the girl i was going to kill

and i broke down

and i asked the world

what is wrong with me

[onamothswings]

the girl on the bathroom floor

tw: sui ideation, sui plan (not depressing writing though)

Every moment I live is in defiance towards the girl on the bathroom floor. She didn’t think I was possible. She looked at her phone. The notes she wrote couldn’t even come close to all her love. But I can show it. My love couldn’t fit into one text, or onto one sheet of notebook paper. But it can fit into a lifetime of hugs. Of fresh baked cookies, and birthday cards, and arguments, and apologies.

The girl on the bathroom floor stared at that bottle of pills. And she shook some out. And the girl stared at the hand that would determine her future. Every time I laugh, I think of her. Every time I talk to my mother, I remember. Every time I make a mistake, I think of her. I picture that open palm. The little blue capsules. The bottle on the floor, the half empty glass on the counter, the floor tiles wet from tears.

I think of myself as defying the girl on the bathroom floor, but really, we’re the same. Her phone buzzed with a text, she remembered the people she loved. And she had a hard time believing it, but she knew they cared. They wanted to help. They would wait for her. She put the pills back into the bottle. She got up and washed her face, she kept going. She realized she wasn’t ready to give up yet. And neither am I.

[onamothswings]

unlabeled

The weight for a coffin carrier must be large. 

They hold the hugeness of a life on their shoulders

Of decades of actions, love, words.

A years long fight against the inevitable,

Inevitably lost.

How must it feel, for their job

Their everyday

To be taking the leftovers of a soul 

On a long parade to their resting places. 

[onamothswings]

Desk

The home of her thoughts and ideas,

Her desk tells me stories of her mind.

A book left open to a random page.

[onamothswings]

Reading

Curled up like a sleeping cat

Under a blanket

Sun streams onto my face.

I put down my book for a second.

Close my eyes to bask in the warmth.

Seconds turn to hours.

The story can wait.

[onamothswings]

my fav poem so far

Making Pancakes

Standing like a stork, one leg bent, propped on the other,

My mom flips pancakes with a spatula.

She stares out the window as she waits for them to cook.

She hums to herself and takes a drink of water.

And I think of myself.

When I cook, I stand like that,

I hum the same tune,

I zone out, watching the world outside.

But I say nothing.

I turn around and head back upstairs, as quietly as possible.

I don’t want to disturb her,

For once,

In the quiet of early morning sunshine

She exists

Not as a mother

Or a wife

Or Ms. Anything

Or Kate

But as Kati.

As a girl -

- making pancakes.

written jan 14, 2025

[onamothswings]

intro

hi!!!!

i'm mary/mothwings!

i go by she/her, i'm wlw <33

im a teenager so dont be weird

im probably just going to post silly little things i've written on here but who knows, there might be stuff about music i listen to (i listen to WAY too much music). idk maybe other things i make - bracelets, art, whatever.

honestly this is more for me than anything because i know no one is going to read this but i dont mind

ily, have a good day <33

-feb 19, 2025