Sunday, September 25, 2011

therapy.

My shrink told me to write poetry, to help ease the pain from my mom's death.

So, here goes.

"Knowing is Half the Battle"

I can never know
Who you really were
You never let me see
All of you.

I just saw glimpses of pain
A past, a cross, a burden
Too great to bear.

I know your scent
Like I know myself
Coffee, cigarettes, cheap
Laundry detergent.

I know your voice
What each octave meant
Anger, happiness, excitement
I miss it, I miss you.

I know the names
You had for me
Mar, Mary Beth, Mary Elizabeth!
And I know yours, too.
Mom, mama, mommy.

I still can't believe
That I will never see you
That I will never hug you
That I will never hear you
Again.

I want to know you
I want you here, now, flesh and blood
Even if I learn more about you
Knowing, is only half the battle
The other part, my heart
This hole, can never be filled
Again.

3 comments:

  1. This, as always, is so beautiful. I think you should do a book of poetry for everything you feel. You're such a talented writer, and sometimes I think the most incredibly poetry comes from a painful, darkened place. I love you, my Mare-Bear.

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    Replies
    1. I like the suggestion :) I think that is something I will start to work on to help myself work through her anniversary. Such a rough time of year will surely yield great writing!

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  2. I re-read it, and it seriously made me choke up. =( *hug*

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