●☆●♡●☆● I hold my breath when you come to me Or call me on the phone Your non~questions rarely being How are you Mom But that you need money You say it is for good things Like food and clothes Maybe it will be after... When you begin to heal
I try and protect my fragile heart Cause I don't know when the war will break out that will tear us again Carefully packed bags now ripped and strewn across the foor knick knacks fallen with the slam of the door
On the phone for a moment longer than you approved. Punishment of your spite, ugly names that came at me like pellets and angry wasps, while the woman on the other line told me it would all be OK Assured me over and over A three minute call that ended too soon.
Too long for You to wait. Longer than the Morning was patient, while you slept as I lovingly packed your food. ▪●☆●▪