My mother doesn't remember my first memory,
It was of her lying in bed,
Facing the window,
Eyes closed to the sun,
Back to me,
I built a perfect square in the corner,
Blocks of color made uniform,
I looked back at her,
I did good mama I thought,
But my words melted,
I swallowed them back down because I thought,
Maybe today she didn't,
My mother doesn't feel my first instinct,
It was of me thinking our souls didn't match,
And neither did our words,
But those are all that was given to me,
I would've taken more but these things were never for the taking,
My mother doesn't understand my first steps,
They were out the door of the rusted familiar and down the jagged steps of the unknown,
Why would you wander?
I gave you all the things that bring comfort,
But she never did give comfort,
My mother doesn't see my biggest fear,
That I scorched myself out of my colors,
Maybe a perfect square wasn't enough,
Maybe it had to be all red or all blue,
My mother doesn't get my first regret,
That I didn't get to choose her,
But neither did she,
And the ones I did choose,
I can't help but to love the way I love you,
I can't help but to build squares in the corner hoping they still see the colors.