Untitled. Subject: mom

There’s the slight possibility that she’s reading this… and if you are, I love you.

My mother always told me,
“I am always your first best friend,
Because family is forever,
Not friends.”

That was before we stopped talking.
And it hurts,
You know when your best friend
Stops talking to you.

But with time,
I’ve learned.
She’s not my best friend.
She wasn’t my best friend.
Your mom isn’t supposed
To be your best friend.
Your mom
Is supposed to be your mom.

And yet,
Everytime I hear
Phil Collins sing,
“You’ll be in my Heart”
My stomach drops
And my throat pulls.

And I begin to miss her,
I want to cry like a puppy.
Because losing my mom
Mourning a person
Who’s still alive,
Is confusing.
It’s painful.

I mourn the days I never had
I mourn the days I’ll never have.
We live in different states.
And sometimes it feels like different worlds.
Delusions and paranoia pull us apart.

History stands between us like a wall,
That cannot be torn down.
We have hurt each other,
And fought like small children

And yet I can’t forget
The times we dressed the same
And laughed.
The times we would sit to dinner
And I would tell her about my day
Until I was blue in the face
Because all I wanted to do was share with her.

That’s all I want to do.
She may not be my best friend.
And far away, she is still my mom.
I may reach out and not get a response.
So even if she doesn’t want it,
I know-
I want to share.

And until we are both ready,
Because I’m sure one day she’ll come back
And I will resent her
For when I was ready and she wasn’t.
I will bask in the memory,
Of her smell.
And her warmth.
And I will cherish her absence,
Because sometimes it’s needed.

But until we are both ready,
I will share.
Maybe not with her.
But with you.
Because you can be my friend.



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