There's no way to do you justice
To quantify time in learning as I grew
sprouting from rich soil
at your hand
You are all violet & chamomile,
which you do not like but
I think of you each time
I steep its leaves
In youth I was questioned & prodded
Other children finding comedy in the
absence of mother &
the presence of you
In youth I grew shameful of time spent
bent over puzzles & mystery novels
Spent so much time apologizing
To those I thought knew better and
Pocketed my love for you
I am sorry for hesitating
For tabling the thought that maybe
This crazy was my normal, but
You are my normal
And
I couldn’t ask for a better reason
To leave the party
For another cup of tea
—
c
Grew up with my grandparents. Had my parents around but my grandma was like a mom for the better part of my childhood. Trying to explain these feelings was a challenge. I hope to write more into this.