I heard my mom cry mommy today.
Read it all; this is for her.
She described it as only daughters can.
Thin hands as blood drains away;
the sound of death on lips.
She knew, and yet it comes.
The dawn, I’d hope to think,
maybe we feel it as stitches:
It’s woven together in our sides,
It’s cloth or some such pulling thing,
Some corset of pain and sorrow; it pulls us together
As we fall apart.
Mi madre, maman, mommy:
How can you leave me
Does it all seem to sink?
Oh mom, my mom, my mother;
How can I act but those cubs over bodies
Push wake up push come back push help..!
My mother; it’s you- I grieve, but you grieve it all.
I wish so much I could make it all better;
I’m good at fantasies; I could help there.
But let’s not.
You’re hurting; no one can take that away.
No one else will write it or feel it but you.
It’s no one’s but yours.
littlestorms 