I had a dream,
In black and white.
Where the sky was a foggy grey
And no soul was left in sight
It was an apocalyptic view
Of a town drenched in dust
Particles which once made up homes
Then made up rust
I was a foreigner, In this dream
But not foreign to such sorrow
As I knew destruction revolves around chaos,
However, peace oft settles in what is hollow
I walked those monotone streets,
Observed each hue enchanted,
As if in each step I took
I looked I discovered a new colour
I found such beauty in what had been broken...
Usually tells a gripping story
I spoke to you of this dream,
Read it aloud from my journal.
Sat on your bedroom floor, nervous,
As you organised your day in royal purple
I was scared you would find me gloomy. Admittedly
And not accept my infatuation with themes of such vein.
But you see, dear mother, that day I found another self
A better self, I must proclaim
You praised me for my choice of words,
Asked me to read whatever I wanted to write.
Cheered me on through the most peculiar endeavours.
Held my hand platonically as I jumped in fright
You waited without a view,
Without assurance I would emerge from those waters
But I knew I had to swim them
And you knew I am a do-er, not a thinker
I came out shivering cold, holding a magic pen.
My mind shifted stronger.
And you welcomed me in the end...
We may not always be in agreement,
Or understand what is best, most of the time.
But you have always stood there ready
To give us another try
You may not have my same way with words, animals, art or clothes,
Withal you are insatiable in love
Taught me what it means to care and devote
You are stronger for letting go of me on to journey
Even when I forbade you to travel with
It takes strength to trust another
Especially one bound to swim adrift
Thank you for standing by the shore,
Even though you tried to step in.
I do still look behind and see you waving
Whenever I need an extra boost of bravery.
I hope you understand my distance is not a sign of being short on love
I'm simply in a middle of a tempest
Which I must roam away from alone
Your presence falls not flat
in a sea of disinterest
On the far contrary
It falls in tune echoing through the waves of my existence
Your daughter
Don't come knocking on my door though, I'm busy.
Happy Mothers Day
YOU ARE READING
Evasion
PoetryRead for poetry that explores mental health, addiction, and abusive relationships. Authoring this book is my way to heal and understand some of the dark chapters of my life. Hopefully, exploring these emotions with me will help you feel understood i...