We speak in fragments, broken lines,
A language lost between the signs.
I reach for you, but always miss—
A mother's love, a daughter's wish.
Our words are heavy, hard to say,
The weight of silence in the way.
I long for warmth, for softer light,
But every hug feels too tight.
I want to know the way you feel,
To bridge the gap, to make it real.
But every step feels out of sync—
An unseen wall, a missing link.
I've watched the years drift slowly by,
With questions left to hang and die.
I want to love you, want to be
The daughter that you hoped you'd see.
But something's lost, or maybe found,
In all the distance we've allowed.
Still, deep inside, a hope remains—
To mend what's broken, ease the pain.
Perhaps one day, we'll find a way,
To heal the hurt, to learn to stay.
A mother's love, a daughter's plea—
I want us closer. I hope you see.
YOU ARE READING
She's antiromantique
PoesiaShe was heartbroken, instead of the revenge she wrote, she wrote like no one else ever did, every feeling, every sense of discomfort, every thought, was written down, in every book corner, every piece of paper, every napkin, knowing that all of them...
