My mom isn’t dead
her heart still beats,
just not loud enough to reach me.
My mom isn’t dead
she still breathes,
but she never spends a breath saying my name.
My mom isn’t dead
she pours herself into my siblings,
leaving nothing left to spill my way.
My mom isn’t dead,
and somehow that’s what hurts the most.
Because I’m grieving someone
who still walks this earth.
I watch her love from a distance,
like it’s behind glass
close enough to see,
too far to touch.
My mom isn’t dead,
but the version of her that loved me
is.
If it was ever really there to begin with
And some days I wish I were,
not because I want to disappear,
but because all I want
is for my mom
to love me.
Jan 26
Jan 26, 2026 at 5:48 PM UTC
My mom isn’t dead
her heart still beats,
just not loud enough to reach me.
My mom isn’t dead
she still breathes,
but she never spends a breath saying my name.
My mom isn’t dead
she pours herself into my siblings,
leaving nothing left to spill my way.
My mom isn’t dead,
and somehow that’s what hurts the most.
Because I’m grieving someone
who still walks this earth.
I watch her love from a distance,
like it’s behind glass
close enough to see,
too far to touch.
My mom isn’t dead,
but the version of her that loved me
is.
If it was ever really there to begin with
And some days I wish I were,
not because I want to disappear,
but because all I want
is for my mom
to love me.
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