My mother is a moaner. She wakes up she moans, before she sleeps she moans.
I can’t remember the last time she went a full day without moaning.
Her moans are loud roars that bounce off the walls and when she’s in a bad mood the whole house knows.
I wonder what happened to make her so bitter? What was the thing that broke inside of her, that turned off her light?
Was there ever a time when she would wake singing songs of joy?
What happened to her smile? Years of negativity have etched a permanent scowl across her face.
Her eyes are the deceivers, you can tell that deep down, locked inside her, trapped by years of hurt, an innocent and pure soul is trying to escape.
It yearns to be free, to knock down the walls that have been built up. This facade. To cast away this intruder.
But until that day, whilst it lays in wait, my mother continues on with her tirade of moans. Moaning from sunrise to sunset.