The one before me
remembers your face.
She still holds the fear
of a child abandoned,
watching a television full of static,
searching for safety,
comforting me because you wouldn't.
I'm blessed not to hold that pain.
The one you left behind a while after
fears a God you never taught loves
her.
The world is pain and rage in her
vision.
I was taught so different.
The youngest-
we can't find him.
We follow your path,
assuming it consumed him.
I desperately pray he still possesses
An ounce of faith and innocence.
They don't know a mother's touch.
They've never been rocked with love,
though too old and grown.
They don't connect with a father,
hugged after an explosion and told
'I love you.'
From the same womb as me,
we carry the same blood.
Yet only I
have ever felt loved.
What makes me so much more worthy?
Sep 15, 2017
Sep 15, 2017 at 8:00 PM UTC
The one before me
remembers your face.
She still holds the fear
of a child abandoned,
watching a television full of static,
searching for safety,
comforting me because you wouldn't.
I'm blessed not to hold that pain.
The one you left behind a while after
fears a God you never taught loves
her.
The world is pain and rage in her
vision.
I was taught so different.
The youngest-
we can't find him.
We follow your path,
assuming it consumed him.
I desperately pray he still possesses
An ounce of faith and innocence.
They don't know a mother's touch.
They've never been rocked with love,
though too old and grown.
They don't connect with a father,
hugged after an explosion and told
'I love you.'
From the same womb as me,
we carry the same blood.
Yet only I
have ever felt loved.
What makes me so much more worthy?
Though all my relationships tend to be toxic, I feel an overwhelming guilt because I know I have more than they do.
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