Momma,

This isn't going to rhyme like the one to Poppa.
This is simply going to be my thoughts.
My feelings.
Nothing complex, but not simple.
I miss you, and I know it's not your fault.
But who's fault is it? You see,
I can't blame Poppa, or God.
So, who can I blame?
Sometimes, I blame myself.
Crazy, right?
How could I be the one who made you die?
Your heart just wasn't strong enough.
Maybe I broke it one too many times.
Maybe I stressed you out to the point,
it just stopped.
Maybe it is my fault.
Mom, I just miss you so much.
Why can't I talk to you?
Why can't I call you up when I need to?
Most people my age can, and do.
But I can't.
And I don't.
I wish I could reach through the veil.
I wish I could touch your face.
I wish I could talk to you.
Mom, life is a living hell.
And I can't get any advice from you.
I wish I could.
But I can't.
I'd trade places with you in a heart beat.
Then you could help the others with life.
But, that'd be selfish.
You'd be in pain.
You'd be sick.
And I'd be at peace.
That's not fair to you.
I guess life isn't fair.
I guess I'll have to learn to be okay with that.
If that's possible.
How does one become okay,
knowing that they have to live without their best friend?
I don't know.
But I'll figure it out.

Somehow.
I love you Momma

{Jo(e)}