Poetry: My Mother Cannot Love

my mother cannot love

her heart dead with death
barely feels the air pass by
the soaked filter of her butt.

my mother doesn’t love

curtains cast shadows in her view
doesn’t matter though same scene
different day must be comforting.

my mother has no love

who isn’t there for real her fiction
pumps life into her imprisoned mind
while nicotine fingers stub out the rest.

my mother lost her love

more vague delusions must choke
the life right out of her sunken chest
memories dying over time repeatedly.

[My mother passed in 2013.  I wrote this piece 10 years prior. This is a memory from when I was 12.  She used to just sit at the table and drink the tea she had me make and stare out of the window.  I never knew why until I got much, much older.  Thank God we made our amends together.  She is with my brother–who died at 8–and sister who died at 3.]


I Would Love Your Thoughts!

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s