Have you seen Maiden, Mother, Crone?

The milk is almost gone
The list is on the table
Bread, Eggs, Butter, Milk
The child is in the bed
Blankets over her
At nothing
At everything
Indifference owns her
I cannot leave
I don’t know what she might do
The knives are locked away
So are the pills
But I must stay
I cannot trust to even get the milk
Or take care of the list
I am trapped