Behold Your Mother, Saint John

   
   "Behold Your Mother, Saint John"
  
   Short and sweet.  They've told me not to talk to her.  Not to touch her with love or anoint her with lavender.  Not to pray over her.  Not to give her vitamins, spice, and herbs.  She was tossed out of bed, he went back to sleep, not even waking me up.  I found her at approximately 4 AM, laying on the floor, face covered in blood, with a large contusion on her forehead.  She was smiling, saying profoundly:  "Good morning Mark."
   I've asked my physician for chemical castration.  I've attempted asceticism.  Lock me up.  Castrate me.  But if you touch my mother with negativity--I'll fucking tear you to pieces.