I am the child who spilled milk
Paralysed as the white consumes the ground beneath
Seeping into the cracks of the floor
Quenching dry wood
Lost in the thick and brown.
I am the child who spilled milk
Looking up
Looking for mother as tears leak from my eyes
My stomach churns with guilt and fear and glee.
I am the milk that is spilled
Messy and un-contained
Refusing to remain within
The constraints of those chambers.
I am the spilled and spoiled
Ruined by sealed lips and too much
Space
And too little room.
I am the milk
Cherished and separate.
Whole and alone
And wanting
Mother.