When the Lights Are Left On

by Heath.

July 16, 2024

When I was 15,16,17,

I was turning the lights off in my

mom's house often.
She would leave them on late at night and

walk away, off to her room. Off to bed.
I have, had, been climate concious since 12,13.

The occurrence occurred more frequently as I

got older. The stress,

perturbance, that

associated itself to my insistince that

the lights be turned off,

levyed through my mom, and

she would be upset that I wanted

the lights off and I

would be upset that it seemed as though

she wanted our

house flooded with light in late

hours of the night.
Around that time we began to struggle

to love each other. Small things like the lights ,

big things like this one time,

she sent this photo of me,

on stage during a show choir

performance.

With the camera aimed upwards

from her seat off stage,

while I wore a skirt

several feet above her.
I don't know if that's the only photo she took.
I don't know if she sent him other photos.
I don't know if she ever saw up my skirt.
I don't know if the camera did. I don't know if he did.
I didn't want photos of me as a minor in any

position to be sent to any man

she was flirting with.
Whether they had met online or honestly,

that she were romantically engaged with him at all.

And so we argued

on that.
And then she put photos of

the three of us, me, 16, and

my siblings whom

were younger on her dating profiles.

And so what started

with the lights being on

and off and on and off

through arguing-

became take these

photos off your dating

profile,as

she continued to

bring men home whilst

My youngest

sibling slept near her

open bedroon door.

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