Mom,
Let bygones be bygones.
The dark, heavy cloak of guilt you wear, it is dulling your shine!
Why waste more time?
There’s still too much life.
Getting older and sicker, you still cover my pain with liquor.
Sob,
carry on, question why and how you could do it all so wrong.
Despite the terrifying turbulence, tears, endless fear; I was born wanting acceptance and peace.
Rest easy, do not look but SEE.
Tenacity and resiliency, I carefully discerned how my life would be.
I hope for trust and vulnerability to share comfortably.
Come here, I’ll dry your tears after all these years.
@thestrugglesofawriter
