I stared at you,
a cold empty face.
You didn't have much time for me,
and nothing much to say.
You never really touched me,
and if you did you made it hurt.
With spite you said I remind you of him,
I felt to blame, but wasn't sure.
Was it my fault when you left?
Because you never said goodbye.
Yet you took the others with you,
and the soul of a small boy died.
Strangely as I grew older,
you relied on me the most.
I kept trying to earn your love,
to bleed affection from a ghost.
With my early twenties scattered,
I couldn't pinpoint how I felt.
I was broken and alone,
while juggling shards of shattered self.
As time progressed I began to heal,
and put myself in a better place.
I understand too much to hate you,
But I don't have much to say.
I know the pain you went through,
that you were damaged from the start.
A lonely child you were too,
with missing pieces of your heart.
I couldn't bring myself to do to you,
the things you did to me.
To perpetuate that awful cycle,
so forgiveness set me free.
Forgiveness is a habit,
not a singular event.
Sometimes past words and actions
muster up my soul's lament.
But through it all you're still my heart,
and that's not an easy pill to swallow.
But I won't live life filled with resentment,
we're not guaranteed tomorrow.
I remember the night I danced with you,
Such Great Heights, Iron and Wine.
I wanted you to know that I could love you through it all.
I will give more than I was given, dearest mom of mine.