i know how to survive. well that's a stretch. in my head. that's how i heard it. my mothers voice. my mother made tortillas with her hands. she only knew that. this wasn't her dream. this was her only choice.
"dont let your dreams go. if a life of brick and fashion is what you want chase her down and walk with your shoes on the ground and your heart in your mouth." - maria, mother to my mouth.
how can she see these words changing my life.
clothes is what we wear and we walk with our shoes on our feet.
my father. it's like pine needles.
i was there. burried in her womb.
what can a man feel during the pregnancy of a child. a fresh new start. a life. almost a second chance.
but "your dreams are first, push aside the ugliness. embark on a journey that will start your life. beauty is an understatment for life. i am your mother. mother to your dreams. to your heart. to your mouth. and the funny looking hairstyles i couldn't see past. me. your mother. your life is pasta. eat up." - maria, mother to my dreams, mother whom i love.
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