Heart settles for a second or a millisecond more.
Dew rises leaving the world in a smokey haze.
This is not a phase.
This is just me.
She prayed.
I stayed away from all of that.
When I was younger, everything was "as a matter of fact".
Everything was reading newspapers for the comic strips.
Everything was detective novels fit for my young mind.
She left it all behind, not by choice.
She was my voice.
She was my mom.
Mom..
mom..
mom.

She watched me read poetry with sweaty pits.
Fear hiding behind my eye-lids.
It helped that she was there.
It helped the fear.
Performing in front of people, something I didn't often do.
Now the smoke rises leaving only dew.
Who am I now?
What will I become?
My mom knew me but someday I'll say she only knew me when I was young.
I'm not ready for that.
I'm not sure I'll ever be.
That day will come and the dew will rise again.
The dew behind my eye-lids.