It drove her mad. 

To lunacy occasionally, when occasionally meant most days. She did not

know how to remove it.

She had used kitchen shears, and blow torches, 

and pick axes. 

There was a lot of blood,

those times, 

and her mother was a billion pieces of nothing. 

But it continued to cause her insanity

because it haunted her like an apparition, only it was

always

there. 

It hung like corduroy pleating from her midsection, 

and like bricks of satin on her thighs. 

Once she gave up on the weapons,

those times,

she decided to tie her hands behind her and to lock her head in its place,

struck by Medusa and her chuckling snakes. 

And funnily enough, 

it all went away.

She lost the corduroy folds, the satin blocks, and she

like her mother

became a billion pieces of nothing.