I am** five, and I still hold a certain sparkle in my eyes as I look up at my mother with pure awe and devout love for a woman who I assume to be my hero, my teacher, my one true love. Never would anyone replace a child’s love for their mother, right? She is the one who brought you into this world, and teaches you how to walk, how to speak, how to eat and how to be. She is the one who is there when you cry, when you scrape your knee, when you have a fever or just want a hug from mummy. No one can replace that. No one will love you like your mother…

I am eleven, and my mother is the bane of my life. She won’t let me go and see my friends because I didn’t clean my room. She is such a *****, right? We argue, we make up, then we argue some more… It’s a never ending spiral of “I HATE YOU, YOU’RE RUINING MY LIFE” and “I’m so sorry mum, I didn’t mean the things I said”. I still appreciate what she does- making my dinner and cleaning my room, giving me some cash to go into town with my friends, always being there when I need a cuddle. Sorry for being a horrible daughter mum, I love you…

I am fifteen, and I realize now that the last few years I have been nothing but horrible to my mother, who does all she can for me to have a good life even when she’s struggling. Finances are a *****, and life is **** but we still carry on trying to make the best out of it. I love her and she is the one constant in my life. Fallouts with friends and boy troubles? Forget all that, I’ve got my mum. I see my friends argue constantly with their mothers and all I can think is, “I’ve been there and trust me, one day you’ll regret it”. My mum tells me stories of how my dad is just an annoyance and not worth the space he takes up, and I’m ashamed to say it, but I believe her. Because she is my mother, she would never lie to me, right? Right…

I am eighteen, and my mother is no longer a part of my life. Words occasionally exchanged, I see her every few months when I come home from university. But it’s not the same. You see, my mother is not good. She is rude, and untruthful, and unfaithful and this is not what you want to see from your mother. She moved out, took her stuff and ****** right off. My mother, my hero, my one true love has done the unthinkable and left me behind. She can try to redeem herself by defending her actions and saying that she “deserves happiness too” but in reality, she’s wrong, and there’s nothing she can do…

I am now forgetting the good times, when my mother was… well, a mother.
I am now seeing her for what she really is, and I truly wish I wasn’t.
I am now realizing she is volatile. She’s the common denominator.
I am now becoming immune to the pain she causes, and to the promises she’s failed to keep before.
I am my mother’s child but she is not my mother, not anymore…

When I was a kid I lived in a fairytale.
I had my parents, the king and queen of the kingdom
Who loved me unconditionally and doted on me; their baby girl
I spent my days chasing butterflies and trying to grasp on to those last remains of Summer
Before the Fall came
And oh what a mighty Fall it was

I was sixteen when my life stopped being all about fairytales and happily ever afters
And became a mixture of bitter hatred for this reality and yearning to revert back to those Summer days
But I can't, I can't reach those early afternoons playing in the sandpit of my childhood,
Or those evenings when I would run back to
a home cooked meal sitting ready for me on the dinner table.

And now as I wander ever faster towards the winter of my life, all I have is the memories.
They say you shouldn't hold on the past
But why not, when the present is burying you right where you dug the grave which you labeled the "good old days".
And the photographs on the mantelpiece come tumbling down as you begin to realize that mommy isn't perfect and daddy isn't invincible.

They're human.
And humans hurt, and they heal and they love, and they feel.
And never will there be a day when I look back and think, "hey let the past be the past"
Because now?
Now I live in endless agony, crippled by my fear of growing old; getting married, paying bills, and growing my family.
and facing the heartbreak that everyone has at least once in their lives.
If you're lucky, it's quick like the pain of a band aid tearing off your skin.
But if like me you're not, then I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for the pain and the slow burning ache that will settle itself in your heart and never leave.

Because sometimes,
A person will nestle a home for themselves in your chest and they will be with you all your life.
No matter what happens, even after marriage and children and all that comes with it.
You will grow old and in your last moments on this earth, you will reminisce about that love you lost all those years ago.
Not the one who got away-
But the one who never left.

To this day,
I live as a memory box
Constantly reminded that when you grow up, life's a ***** and then you die.
But you'll always have the memories to remind you that life was not always this way.
That sometimes, it can surprise you
And make you laugh like you've never laughed and cry like you've never cried.
You'll live like the uphills are mountains
And the downhills are cliffs to drag you back down to reality.


© Elle 2016

What's so wrong  with smiling
When you know things aren't okay?
I recall myself a sinner,
yet I'm adverse to the dismay

Of people so irrelevant and
truly don't take kind
to the belief that I am nothing but
the workings of His mind.

I am my own person, and
to that person loyal
I will not retreat at battle,
No, I will not recoil.

Be only who you are and never
alter for the world.
Beliefs are all your own, not
Anyones to herald.

My most damning
Demons
Are the ones inside
My head.

It seems they'll never
Quiet down until
The day that I drop
Dead.

Too afraid, I'm
Running.
Living in the shadows of
My body.

My own desolate
Heart aches with
The burden of
Melancholy.

It was meant to be special- worth
The wait.
I never thought myself to be a fool
So then why did I take the bait?

Sparks and hearts soar.
Fireworks burn to the very core,
Above where the stand, or more
They sway.
Why can't it be us feeling this way?

Clumsy. Anxious- i said
"I wasn't ready"
Too much, too many
Things left unsaid after parting ways.
Still I'm afraid to catch
Your gaze.
Anger set ablaze.

Thoughts- secrets mingle in the dark
Memories of Winter take us back
To the start
Where we once stood,
Facing our demon as he peered from
Beneath his hood.

Yet here we stand after defeating
The trials. Still tall-
Victorious after many a mile
Of tribulations that almost broke
What we spent a lifetime continuing
To stoke. And still this fire burns
Engraved in our hearts for so long.
Forever letting us know, to whom
We truly belong.