i can’t remember the sound of her voice i can’t remember the way she kissed my head i can’t remember the feeling of her hands on my shoulders i can’t remember her dancing i can’t remember her singing i can’t remember her driving me to school i can’t remember her being my mother i can’t remember who she really was
i remember her wheelchair i remember her computer voice i remember her feeding tube i remember the end the suffering the tears
i remember a broken body i don’t remember my mother