»
Archives
»
Open Poetry #49
»
Mother
| Open Poetry #49 |
|
Mother |
|
|
Damien Page Junior Member
since 2014-03-30
Posts 22 |
Maybe it isn't the rejection that infests my spirit... Maybe it's simply the fact that I was planted in a bed like a rose bush but you refused to water me.. and my petals withered away... and turned into dust. Maybe it's because I can hear your voice singing me to sleep but I can't imagine your face without wanting to cry. Maybe it's because I miss the smile that you gave me when you told me that you loved me and that nobody could replace me. Maybe it's because you ended up replacing me. Maybe it's because my life is either a love poem or a suicidal poem and I can't distinguish which direction I want to go in. Maybe it's because something as insignificant as a palindrome can cause me to fall to my knees and confide in this letter. Why? Sometimes... I never understood how you could mask your emotions so precisely It was almost sociopathic, How you could scream at the top of your lungs but the second you picked up a phone you turned into someone else. However, I should have known that eventually I would be the person on the phone. All the memories become a background track, where the violin strings are replaced with the ones in my heart and the piano is played ever so gently where the melodies paint a picture of what we used to be Bittersweet symphonies... and it's always on repeat... You placed a black hole in the middle of your son, It absorbs all the brightness I have I can't get it back... so I hold on to the idea and try to think hard enough so that light bulb illuminates the path enough where I can sew up the hole with the fabric of time... but there isn't enough.. Growing up you placed so many knives in my back I started to forget the feeling of when I didn't bleed. I didn't need you to be a parent, i needed you to be a human being. I needed guidance... All I can do is stare into the sky and follow the North star. But that only takes me so far... I suppose I wanted something that you could never be.. and if that's the case... why did you bring me into existence at all? So you could see the world through my eyes and feel as if you live through me vicariously? Also.. you can call me dirt.. but at least dirt doesn't change when it's put under pressure. You're more like sand.. 'cause under enough pressure you're see through. I may be your offspring but I'm nothing like you. Coddle your burning bridges and bathe in the ashes. I'm just ashamed that we swim in the same gene pool. |
||
| © Copyright 2015 Damien Page - All Rights Reserved | |||
|
JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
I relate. Big time. ~*~ When they give you ruled paper write sideways. ~*~ |
||
|
tracie66 Member Elite
since 2000-01-18
Posts 4713Australia |
I'm so sorry that your own mother treated you this way, it takes a lot of courage to bare your soul like this.  Love is the life of the soul... |
||
|
JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
nice writing...hope you forgive your mother and love her because she is your mother...james |
||
|
Lori Grosser Rhoden Member Patricius
since 2009-10-10
Posts 10202Fair to middlin' of nowhere |
Ouch! Powerful writing here. As a mother that has a difficult relationship with a daughter, you make me cringe at the possibility of battle scars of angry words between us. It is hard to accept our mother's failings. It is hard to comprehend what on earth she could have been thinking at the time and why she did what she did. And how in the name of God could she have hurt us so badly. I know sometimes people get caught up in a hell of their own making and it is painfully toxic to those around them. Forgive them they know not what they do. And when they do realize the damage done, guilt eats them alive. ~L |
||
|
Pilgrimage Member Elite
since 2001-12-04
Posts 3945Texas, USA |
This is heartbreaking. Mothers are flawed like everyone else. But some people shouldn't be allowed to raise a child, and that's just how it is. Well-written, and a very evocative poem. Nan (Pilgrim variety) |
||
|
|
⇧ top of page ⇧ |
|
| All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. | ||
