you told me once
that you were
seeing everything
from the top of a
mountain
and i wonder
if the cerulean air from
up there
fills your lungs
like a new day
and if the birds
live inside your dreams
like a museum
where their laughter
preserves the best
parts of you

I am my mothers eyes,
brown, soft, loving and kind.
With a thousand stories to tell, she would lay me down in my cocoon, when I was young and little, look up with those bold eyes, "God are you listening?" she would ask, then a stretch of a smile would brush the sadness in  her eyes.
Why does God lie?
Why can't he/she be honest sometimes?
These are questions I always ask myself when I'm in deep contemplation about life.
I cry sometimes you know, when she lies in bed helplessly, knowing that someday, she'll lie there, still in peace, there'll be no more breath in her lungs.
Yesterday I cried again,
Feeding the pain inflicting me,
She texted me back "I'm doing okay, don't worry about me okay?"
How can I stop worrying?
when its all I can do,
hold my phone to my hand in stagnation,
so grateful that the one technological piece in my hand, is as close as I can get to you mom.
I know what I did was wrong,
moving out especially at a time you needed me the most.
I left you with pain and suffering,
and now I cant undo it because its made its way to your stomach, its killing your insides,
and all I can do is blame myself.
They say you'll never understand someones pain until you step into their shoes.
I wish I could do that. I wish I could step into your shoes and heal this disease that's trying to take you away from me.
God please if you're reading this, take your time to please return the promise you gave to me, the one you told me when I allowed you into my life, when I said I'm all yours and you mine.
Please don't take my mother away from me.
Not yet,
not until I've given her the best life she deserves