poetry

39

the empty place:

there is an empty place beside me
where my mother used to stand,
a space carved out of shadows
that i still cant understand.

i search for her in photographs,
in the echoes of her voice,
but all i find is silence,
and the cruelty of no choice.

i miss the way she held me,
how her arms felt safe and warm,
now im adrift in this cold world,
searching for her in the storm.

i see her in my dreams sometimes,
feel her fingers stroke my hair,
but i wake up to this emptiness
that tells me shes not there.

i reach for her in moments
when the world feels far too dark,
but she is gone, and all i grasp
is the pain thats left its mark.

i whisper her name to the shadows,
to the corners of each room,
but theres no one there to answer,
just the aching, endless gloom.

i wish i could bring her back,
undo the final breath,
but grief has made its home in me,
a reminder of her death.

people say that time will heal,
but what do they truly know?
theyve never felt the hollow ache
of where a mother used to go.

i miss her with a fierceness
that no words could ever say,
an ache that claws at every breath,
in every passing day.

theres an emptiness inside my chest,
where her heartbeat used to be,
and i wonder if this hollow place
will forever be in me.

i try to move without her,
to live as she would want,
but it feels like a betrayal
to pretend shes not the loss.

if i could see her one more time,
hold her close, feel her near,
id tell her all the things unsaid,
all the things she should hear.

but now im left with memories,
of a love that was so pure,
a mother lost too early,
a grief that must endure.

so if you see me crying,
know its not just tears i weep,
its the mourning of a mother
who i lost, but cannot keep.

her absence is a heavy weight,
a wound that will not close,
and every day without her here
is a day where sorrow grows.