Oct 2016
Purple, the color for strong women
My mother boldly says,
I am not sure what she means
But she isn’t completely right in the head
The look in her eyes when she is distressed
When panic takes over, taking her breath
Again I take this, I turn it about me
Writing some more sad poetry
While she speaks some nonsense
Another day she runs away from the cops
I pretend it isn’t real, a cloud of vape in my head
But it is digging like a drill, all that is said
One, two, three, elementary
Tears roll down,
The same way they do from pine trees
Thundering clouds, lightning
Bursting in this shell, my head
Purple, the color for strong women
But I am gray instead.
My mother boldly says,
I am not sure what she means
But she isn’t completely right in the head
The look in her eyes when she is distressed
When panic takes over, taking her breath
Again I take this, I turn it about me
Writing some more sad poetry
While she speaks some nonsense
Another day she runs away from the cops
I pretend it isn’t real, a cloud of vape in my head
But it is digging like a drill, all that is said
One, two, three, elementary
Tears roll down,
The same way they do from pine trees
Thundering clouds, lightning
Bursting in this shell, my head
Purple, the color for strong women
But I am gray instead.
My mother is very sick, loosing her mental health. Today she was sent to the hospital again, around this same time last year the same thing happened. Sometimes it feels like things will get better, but then they get worst. Writing is my therapy, I hope this poem hits someone home.
