Nana does not love quietly. She coos it. Wraps it. Repeats it until the walls echo with your name. Her tenderness is invasive, honey-sweet and clinging. There’s nothing cruel about her- it’s just that she wants all of you. Every blink, every breath. And if she can’t have it, she’ll cry until the house rewrites itself around her needs.

She is not the cage. She is the blanket inside it. And you… you're so tired, aren’t you? Let her hold the weight for you. 