Poems

El perfume de mi madre

I remember the days of my childhood

Days filled with bright yellow laughter

And the sweet scent of vanilla

My days were bright; nothing could go amiss

Until it did

When I was twelve I found meaning

To something I thought I was broken for

I found the term LGBTQ

I tried to tell my mother, she turned away

I tried the same with my father, he said rubbish

I pause for a while, thinking I should let it rest for a bit

Little while later I try yet again

Thinking, hoping, that they changed... maybe they love me again

They didn't

My mother's perfume

Oh how it would surround me in a soft cloud of warmth

A cloud I have long forgotten the warmth of, one I now miss

When I would smell it, I would be reminded of the innocence of my childhood

The innocence that was ripped away from me with a vile hatred

I would smile when I was younger

That scent would bring a blissful smile to my face

I associated the scent of warm vanilla with welcoming arms

With love

With home

With safety

I no longer smell that when I see her

Instead I smell my lost hopes

The hopes that bloomed inside my chest that I now know

Will never be real

The hopes and dreams that mi madre would love me again

I smell hatred

The malicious bitter, sour scent of hatred

It makes me gag

When I see mi madre now, fear is shot into my bones, coursing through my body

The figure of black smoke looming over my small form

Tendrils reach out to caress my happiness

To make a fake innocence before it is ripped away from me

I look into this monsters eyes

Her eyes... mi madre's eyes...

I remember the soft cocoa brown

Soft and inviting

They are now harsh glowing red embers

Late at night, as I am trapped in my mind

I think back to when I would run and laugh with my mother

During the bright days we would laugh

A pathetic tear rolls over my cheeks, down to the sheets

And I break because I wonder

If I never had told my mother, that I am me

Would I still smell el perfume de mi madre?