my mother is a goddess.
a warrior.
an empress.
a friend.
when she looks at her stretch marks in disgust,
i tell her that they recount a story so beautiful that mankind would yearn to hear it.
when she frowns at her wrinkles,
i tell her that they are the paths she has taken, the paths that have made her into the woman she is today.
when she stares at herself in the mirror with dislike,
i tell her that she has been blessed with the gift of life and love.
the first thing i saw when i was born,
was her.
her pained, swollen face.
but, even then, i fell in love with her.
through her teary eyes, i saw love.
through her cries of pain, i heard a song so sweet that my tongue begged for more.
through her shaking hands, i felt a warmth so true that my weak body felt safe.
with her,
i feel true.
i feel real.
i feel brave.
i feel confident.
my mother.
she cradled me.
she kissed me.
she nursed me.
she held me close in the rain.
she laughed with me.
she cried with me.
she gave me everything.
and here i am,
with nothing to give
but my love.
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a/n
when i wrote this for my mum, i was overwhelmed. i was so stressed and broken. but she gave me a hug and told me that it was all going to be ok.
that was when i realised how much i loved her, how much i appreciated her.
i wrote this for her, and seeing the tears of joy and pride in her eyes as she read it made my heart beam. that is a feeling that no other experience will ever replicate.
i love you, mum.
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YOU ARE READING
Poetry
Poetryim laying out my heart and soul for you. treat it well, care for it. do not cast it aside. my first feelings were real but i could not transfer them from mind to paper. but now i can. start with my low, end with my high.
