“Bouquet of purple and orange tulips on a table with a note reading "love" in cursive” by Brigitte Tohm on Unsplash

Mother

A poem

You, my dear mother
never really mothered me
no nurturing, no love or bond
for me to cling to
when I needed your love
you gave me absence and cold
So I raised myself higher
Allowing my soul to soar
above the chaos you reigned
As you threw daggers at me
wounding me for eternity
I know you better now
because now I am older
your pain is my pain
I know you mothered
how you were mothered
I know we both yearn
for the warmth of a mother’s love.

~~~~~~~~~