AN OPEN LETTER TO MY MOM

Mother, I’m sorry that I am not in a road to being a lawyer,
 an engineer, or a doctor, 
 like what you have always dreamed of for me
 I’m sorry that all i have are words.
 Because mom, I have poems scribbled on the back of my hand.
 All I have are words,
 because when I needed someone the most,
 they were the only ones who lent me a hand.
 It is where I found comfort.

But mom, I am trying my best to be an engineer.
 An engineer of words that creates a world
 where people would want to live.
 I am trying my best to be a doctor,
 to heal the wounds and aches
 of people crying out to be saved,
 of people not having any voice to even speak.

Mother, I am sorry for all the nights i made you worry.
 I’m sorry for all the nights I spent on crying.

I’m sorry for all the nights I pushed you away.
 I’m sorry for all the nights I tried to end.
 But mom, every time you tell me to turn off the lights
 and go to bed, I am afraid. I am terrified.
 The monsters under the bed that people talk about? 
 They are not real.
 The monsters have made their way to my bed.
 So stop asking me why I can’t sleep at night, 
 why l keep on losing sleep.
 because somehow, my bed has become too crowded. 
 Anxiety, fear, sadness,
 self-hatred, doubts.

Mom, this bed was made for one 
 and not for six.

I hear them telling me:
 “you’re not smart enough.”
“he will leave just like everybody else.”
“what are you going to do after you graduate?”
 “will you even graduate on time?”
 Mom, stop yelling at me 
 because the voices have done that throughout the night.
 Mom, stop asking me to stay at home.
 Mom, stop thinking that I can be the perfect little daughter.

because mother, 
 I’m sorry for all the mornings I never wanted to see.
 I’m sorry that I can’t tell you all these things.
 I ’m sorry that all I have are words.

Most of the time, I keep on drowning deeper and deeper and deeper
 into a sea of melancholy.
 Mom, have you forgotten?
 I never learned how to swim.