We keep an abundance of boxes in the back
For the day we decide to leave the life we’ve made
Stumbling towards beginnings
That slitter away from my fingers
Before familiarity is gained
And our hearts ache from the loss
I once asked my mother
Why it was that we chased our on tails
Why it was that we run from customary things
And right in to unfamiliar once
Why we couldn’t stay and belong
While knowing it was the right place for our hearts to settle.
I once asked my mother
Why she never liked my friends
And had me cut ties as soon as possible
I asked her why she never favored any of them
Why she let me be alone with my thoughts
Until the only friends I could make
Where the squared once in my library
I once asked my mother
If what she told me about love was real
‘That it was a figment of an aching mind
Trying to make something more of its existence’
I asked her if I could love the way she loved him
Before he decided we weren’t worth his love anymore
Before his eyes fell on another
Perhaps more beautiful
Conceivably younger and better
Before we started this ludicrous run from our own emotions
Chased by a past that left its mark with ink that stung
I asked her questions that made my chest feel smaller
And its contents bloated
By hope and better things
Inflated to a point of pain and at the same time pleasure
I asked her to give me reasons
For our choices
Why we never chose to be happy
Even after we found happiness
Why we let the elephant grow in our own living room
Until it was chocking the very life out of us
And all she could say was
“Mother knows best.”