Thoughts, Never Words. (Poetry Collection)

Mother.

Mother,
I am sorry.

I hated you –
loathed you,
With such a force,
That I could move the earth.

You did not mean to,
I know that now.
But you made me this.
A glass child.

I know now,
You did your best,
Tried your hardest.
Fought your strongest.

But there are parts of me
Still stuck in that house,
Surrounded by screaming,
And glass,

Crying only
For my mother.