Hey Mom!

i'm trying so hard not to lie
because i love you and i cannot speak of it
because you are why i am here, at all
because you're my mother.
yet there is an ocean between us
nothing like a river, that could be crossed easily
it's vast, it's dangerous, it's everything on the line here
and in which most of it, you have given me.

will you ever forgive me?
see with your eyes, who your daughter truly is
listen with your ears, when i explain myself and not cry
and touch me with your hands, that everything is ok and that nothing has changed
not too much anyway.

was i part of your plan, the child you wanted?
were the seemingly endless days when you carried me worth it?
or have i just ruin everything, dashed your dreams because you tell yourself it's not worth it?
there must be a list of things you rather be doing
than sitting with me, and my broken arm when i was a kid
you would probably be working.
who am i kidding?
you were always working
for me, and my brother, the family

you have raised me right, mom
equally flawed as i could be right
and you have raised me never to lie,
yet your policy has always been to hide, and spin stories and excuses that portrayed you and your doings in the best of light
i could never pity you or even try to offer sympathy in your plight
i had to fight to not resent or even hate you
for the plight you have reduced yourself in, had been in the name of indecisiveness, senselessness and blindness

we hardly ever talk now
i couldn't even stand being with you in the same room, breathing the same air, with guilt and imcompetence as thick as bullet-proof glass panels locking us in our little suffocating space
we could see each other but we could never touch
words and body language could only do so much

i resented with my guts the way things are
i envy, when i see girls with their mothers, happy and locking hands, discussing about the latest fashion or her last relationship with a jerk in which you gals had tea over
i yearn
to be close to you like i used to be in your womb
i desire to call you mom and actually like it
but i cannot

i have the worst temper, and the worst sense in finances and figures, genes i've no doubt i inherited wholesale from you, mother
i looked like you when you were younger, the uncanny resemblance that warmed my heart, even for just a second
and who knows, i might actually get that photo of you tattooed
i may never be the daughter you wanted
but you will always be my mother.

sometimes i wish i was never here, never your daughter
merely a stranger on the streets you would have easily forgotten
sometimes i wish you knew me
no, every single day actually
that i enjoy writing, music, tattoos, late silent nights and women
and that I've actually for once in my short life, has tasted real love and real loss
and how it was never my intention to make you mad or work up a senseless argument over whatever
i could never hurt you
but you can and easily.

what is gonna happen in the time to come?
no one knows and perhaps, no one has the time of day to care
but i've drawn us a pretty picture
in which in my absence, you will be at your most comfortable and happiest
i could be following a dusty man-made path down to somewhere and you could be raising my brother's kids and yelling at his wife for not doing certain thing right
most of all, you will be happy, with daddy.
and i would be too.
i hope