Every moment, I seem to picture a horrendous future
And with paranoia, place all my love in the now.
What are calls, messages, mails, and pictures that distract
From the laugher of my mother- ever so rare?
Mother, you know me but you do not.
Perhaps, you know the way I breathe and chew my food
Or the contemplative and unhappy expression I carry
At almost all times for the past few years
You claim to be unfortunate, as you do not see anything else
There is no other who understands my internal breakdown
As you hurt, when I hurt
You are the secret to my every account; your name is my pass
The scarily amount of love I have for you, you do not know
You know but do not know your wrinkles cause me fear
Panic, havoc, and late night thoughts consist of nothing
But your everlasting existence still paving my way in life
Mother, you know me but you do not.
Effort fully, I seek happiness and stability so to
Slow down the oncoming of your old age
I appreciate every foreign well-wisher and blessing
Received from aisles of the last-breath hallway
Better preparing myself for your mortality
Understanding without you, I will be a bit less
For no one can compile my being regardless of broken pieces
The way your kindling hands have, repeatedly
Thankfully, I never thought of what you thought before
O world, thankfully I did not become consumable by your piercing gaze
Blessedly, I navigated through your disapproval and disgust
I surprise myself now, wondering how to create myself further
As if this was all in my hands, as if there was no more God in me
At times, I picture waving hands out the sunroof of his vehicle
Other days, I picture my shaved head, clean robe, and seclusion
Lately, I have seen myself on the other side of the globe because, why not?
But looking into your hopeful eyes, I become obligated to love my town
Every step on the sand this month, or fluttering bee on the garden flower
Has reminded me I at least have home enriched with motherly memories
To Become ~