I needed a heart and my kind mother gave me one, while caring me on her shoulders through the midnight light, telling me to be brave and that it will serve me well.

I believed with her heart resting in my chest I'll never feel pain, but the pain is there up to now burning grief and regret. I am questioning in tears “Is this pain born from love, or is this love born from pain?”

How can I know?
When I am the child that took Mother’s heart and departed for the promised land without looking back at the baskets of black grapes we picked in our vineyard before me leaving, Mother’s hands squeezing the grapes all alone making the red wine that was served with everyone, but me, at her funeral.
She did the impossible to protect me from grieving. Right now, I wish I can find something I could blame her for.

Mother,
you gave me your heart,
and it serves me well. I want you to know,
I never had so much pain,
and I never had so much patience.

You gave me your heart, and it serves me well.

it’s because it’s pouring
in my heart. If you don’t see
the pain in my eyes it’s because
the shades are drawn. They’ve

had to be to live in my
reality. If you don’t hear a word
from me it’s because my tongue is
tied inside my cheeks. If I don’t reach out

to you it’s because my shoulders
have fallen from the weight I’ve been
carrying along with me. You can take
stabs and guesses but you’ll never know

what it’s like to be me.

Late at night
We hide under covers
Our bodies joined as one
Moving to the soundtrack
Of our raging hearts
But this is like a band-aid
To you I don't exist
Until you're itching to take it off

Act Accordingly

Forget that which was said

and that which was done

by whom for what and why

and perhaps embrace

even  within yourself

that which you have not loved


squeeze,

      from every last second

a joy that drips

                 down your hands

as it over flows  

                     your cup

because with so little time

left

there is no concern of tomorrow

or yesterday


what freedom you now have



Today is your last

act accordingly

(even if it isn't)