“Memory is the diary we all carry about with us.”

-Oscar Wilde


The 'Lost' series, piece 2:

Caged Heart

My mother never wanted me. She pushed me out of her life, and out of her heart with the same kind of tightly controlled smile that you find among the popular high school girls and type-A, corporate-minded females. At some point, I ceased to be a real, feeling, human to her and became instead a conviction... an 18 year sentence. 

I throw myself at her headlong, whining piteously at her feet like some unwanted dog.  My heart... desperate for escape from loneliness, batters itself against the glass like some horribly caged bird.