Wretched and hateful I tore you apart
As if you were fashioned from feathers, I
Could see only my twisted heart; not yours.
Not your midnight cries for help and for hope
Nor the emptiness that took you hostage
Not the burdens that sought to crush your bones.
Together we were very much alone.
Our shouting sometimes scared the walls, shook by
Our fighting, fists, fighting , fits, guilt, fear, pain
Yet still, I found the energy to wage more war
To forge an enemy, to blame misery
On the closest person whom I could bare
To look at in the mirror, in the eyes -
You - and still you continued to bleed love; it stained
Even the most violent language you spoke.
And I am sorry for all this, today.
Mother, I’m sorry it had to be this way.
Half a decade on and you joke that my horns have gone,
Replaced by wings that spread wide, you know why?
Because you taught me what love really IS.
Because you showed me, that love was not a prize nor a reward for being anything or anyone but your daughter, damaged as I was.
Because you worked long hours everyday and night when we did not have any money and you kept that roof over our heads and asked for nothing in return. You didn't even complain.
Because mentally battered, exhausted and bruised you would always make sure I had what I needed, that I was your priority.
You have loved me so much all these years, you have felt guilty about these times, as if you should have given me more stability.
But without your unconditional love I would not be.
I would not have survived
Mum, you are the only reason I am alive.
It wasn’t your fault that I wanted to die.
And after all these years,
I think now, you finally understand that.