“Sometimes, I ask myself: Do I love her, my mama? Certainly not like Kipsey. Kipsey’s wrapped around my mama like wool to a spindle. All up in her face. She said it to me once, mama was the child she never had. And I’m thinkin – you can have her. She is all yours.”
“I wonder, why I feel this way? It’s not like mama beat us or abandoned us. Not at all. She loved us, brought us up right. But these days I just want to run for the hills. I hate that I feel this way. That I talk this way, like a rattler’s spittin out my mouth.”
“Sometimes when we’re going downstairs, I wonder for just a moment, what would happen, if, you know….”
