You were my mother and I have something very important to say.
I love you and I lost an important person when you passed away.
You had an aneurysm which was what caused your untimely death.
I was in the hospital room with you when you took your final breath.

I was devastated when the doctor told us you were going to die.
Life would never be the same again after I had to say goodbye.
On the day of your death, I cried and I felt mighty low.
But I'm feeling better now than I did half a decade ago.

Even though time has healed my wounds, I still miss you.
Dying is terrible but sadly, it's what we all eventually must do.
It makes me happy to know how much we loved each other.
Rest in Peace Mom, you were always one hell of a mother.

They tell their child
it is a good guide
follow this good sign
that inspires your life.

Don't ask anything
it is a good thing
follow this given shine
that leads to brighter life.

He obeys that myth
but he found nothing.
Where's a good thing?
Where is his life?

He was a child of the dawn and the dusk
Wanting and waining with the tides he could trust
With soft gentle hands and an innocent touch
He's the child within and to nurture I must

A mother a sister a daughter in one
To succumb to addiction is to say that it's won
But to bury the deep and burdening shame
Her misguided attempt to sow the soul together again

They smile, you smile,
They laugh, you can't not,
Their eyes light up when they see you,
It melts your heart,
It stops your thoughts,
It tickles your soul.

They cry, you guard, you nuture, you kiss better, you tell them the pain won't last.

They are so generous.
They gift you love,
They gift you joy,
They lighten your world,
They make everything worth while,
And this is just when they smile.

You teach them right from wrong,
You teach them numbers and colours,
You teach them,
It's OK to cry,
It's OK to be mad,
It's OK to be tired or frustrated,
Let the emotions come but ensure they remember,
It's OK to let them go.

They will challenge you,
They will teach you just how strong You Truly are.

They are the Ultimate 24/7,
They are so Precious

The first time I saw you ***** out the lights
You took the blood from a kitten with ten thousand bites
I was young and did not understand
I could take it, no need to hold a hand
Sadly, little did I know
That day I only saw your shadow

The second time I saw you, I was about ten
I could not prepare myself for you, not  then
Walking in your house, or rather your gateway
Quiet rooms filled with bodies painted gray
There you stood just around the corner
Keeping to yourself like an exotic foreigner

But when you took Libby from me
That is when I started to see
You were in the room with us
In fact, you were the one causing all the fuss
No one was fighting, Libby was old
Still, how could you take a woman so strong, so bold?

Here is where you crossed the line
When you took Her, you filthy swine
She had her flaws that's true
But not enough to stay with you
She was my savior, my salvation
There's not much left of someone after cremation

When my time comes to meet you in the ring
Fist to face I'll make it sting
If I could do one thing for all mankind
Killing You comes to mind

If I should have a daughter, the first thing I’m gonna teach her is how to pass the blade. Because then she’ll know that if she handles it the right way, she won’t hurt herself or the people she cares about.

She’ll learn that screaming at the world won’t help her tear it down,
that the world will only tear her down instead.

And that’s how she’ll learn to stand strong - because once you’ve built your stronghold back up, you stand so tall and so proud that eventually you believe it too.

I’ll be there to help her see that when her wrists ache, and her shoulders shake, and her legs tremble, there will be hands reaching out to help her hold up the world.
She’ll have help donning her armor, unsheathing her sword, and fighting her battles.
She’ll have help forming her fortress and fortifying herself because
she
is not
alone.

When she realizes she can’t save all the hurting little girls out there, I’ll show her that she’s one of them too,
and so was I,
and that saving herself brings her one step closer to handing a little girl the grip of a blade and teaching her to wield it.

There will be times where she can’t think to go to work, do her homework, or even get out of bed.
She won’t find the motivation to help herself, let alone anyone else.
There will be days when she screams at her mother that having her was a mistake,
days when she can’t move for all the speed of the world around her because she doesn’t feel a part of it,
and days when she would rather give up than suffer any longer.

She won’t think to pass the blade, too busy turning it on herself, because the sight of her blood is better than the sight of her tears.

But those instances when she ends up at the bottom of that pit that’s been dug special for her are the ones she’ll forget in pieces,
pulling out those jenga blocks and stacking them anew so she can build her tower even higher.
She’ll see through the windows in her castle a world so worth living,
worth changing,
that she’ll use her blade only to protect those who can’t yet see the ocean or the mountains because their palace hasn’t made it out of their pit.
Their precarious towers won’t fall because she’ll be busy protecting them all.

And when the world tries to tear you down, she’ll say
“No,”
because she’s seen how terrifying the world can be,
but she has her army of protectors and her blade, and now she’ll pass you your own and show you how to fight.

Before she could speak she pointed.
grabbed my hand and sat me on a stone wall.
tugged her mothers shirt and pointed beside me.
sat between us and smiled, kicking her feet.

I just met her that morning, but she knew.
bright little girl
maybe that's why her mother named her after the sun
Soleil.

fond of "No". that was a big one.
and "elsa" of course.
and every night when you tucked her in she'd list everyone she knew and ask if they were home.
"papa home?"
yes, papa is home
"numnum home?"
yes, numnum is home.
"Dada home"?

I can only imagine she does the same.
an I imagine it... so often.
I wonder what they tell her.

"I love your words."
That's the last thing she told me.
and the first.

I love her words too.
I still hear her, whenever I say them.

"Blue"
"Three"
"Venom"
We played Lego Marvel together, and I told her venom was Daddys favorite, so naturally she always wanted to play him when you asked
"who do you wanna be?"
"Venom. BIG Venom"
There's different kinds of venom in lego marvel, cause he can like,
turn hulk size and do hulk stuff, or turn spiderman size and do spiderman stuff?
I liked him because he was super versatile,
but I'm pretty sure she picked him because he's my favorite.

"Elza"
"let it go"
she could sing the whole song before she could even make full sentences.
and her mom would make her stop because she wasn't good at it.
but I thought her voice was beautiful and always told her
"I love your voice"

I don't know very well the relationship between love and memory
but I heard once that the key was repetition
and if for nothing else, just to hear her in my head forever I say them over and over to myself

"I love your words"
"Let it go, Let it go"
"No."

"Hey, do you know?
My friend's daughter has been accepted at a famous college!"
"Hey, do you know?
My friend's son just got a scholarship!"

"Hey, do you know?
Your cousin is just graduated with perfect GPA!"
"Hey, do you know?
Your childhood friend works in a famous company!"

Yes, I know
I'm not a perfect daughter
I fully know
I can't make you proud