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My Mother
May 15, 2016
I thought I was born without her
Never knew her
Never saw her
Never loved her
My sister yearned for her.
Told stories of her
I yearned for nothing
For what is there to feel for something one has never felt
They cried for her
Never moved on
Never forgot
Held onto the memory of her
I held onto nothing
For what is there to hold onto in something that one has never been able to let go of
I've heard she was many things
A gypsy
An actress
A housewife
A wh**e
But still they loved her
I would love nothing
But the mere fantasy that she had loved me.
© Chris W., Milford, CT
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I wrote this piece while thinking about the relationship between a character I was reading about in a book, and his mother.