Miss Mum

This is a little poem I wrote one day hoping my my could read over my shoulder.

Miss Mum

Inspired and in memory of the death of my Mum one year ago.

The skirt that once clutched her hips,

Now sticks shapelessly to my wardrobe-

The fine denim wearing away;

Like the pain of the people who never really cared.

Her photo wedged in my purse;

my only daily reminder

Of the crinkle of her smile, and the red stain on her cracked lips.

This character I create was real-

So unique;

only she could put pepper on strawberries.

 

Miss Mum, I miss you.

 

And it is when I need her most that I taste that taste

of remembrance

And of a need that will never be fulfilled.

When others feed me their love my heart shrivels;

It shrivels like the remnants of her skin before the inferno blazes!

Expanding, swelling, consuming �"

Her brain became full of poison.

Unlike her picture which is sacred in my purse �" its edges seem to shrink and fade.

But

I fear that one day

The face that composed me

Will be compost

Tread

On.

 

Miss Mum, I miss you.

 

So the pictures,

the massive collection of them-

frayed and shining; worn and perfect

Are scattered between us all.

Whilst we try to mould ourselves around the sharp edges of that box...

Around you.

She was the heart that made us one.

Unknowing

she held us together:

simply with sound of her untainted laughter.

Now our struggles are hidden,

but not different.

But one being so scared to remind the other... problems are never broached.

Too frightened to mention a past

that was a made history too early.

 

Miss Mum, I miss you.

In the old pictures that we seek-

to remember you-

I see how tight you’d hold me;

Like you knew one day I’d slip away...

Like you knew one day you’d give up on us all,

and wanted to savour my innocent heart.

But my heart was not too innocent to remember what it was like.

I remember all the pain and malignant spirits that came from your soul;

 And seem to have forgotten your laugh.

Now your angel is my dream.

 

Miss Mum, I miss you.

 

So I fight with my brain - tell me!

Remind me.

Instead, I feel the pain of ten years...

Of eight months without you.

I remember that you’d make me nervous;

I was nervous to love you again-

I dreaded

but waited for you to hurt me again.

Again...I write as if you can hear my written cries.

Why not just cry?

 

Miss Mum, I miss you.

 

Would you release a swarm of hornets onto your bare skin?

No.

Well I know if I let a tear slip

they will sting my skin

like a never-ending waterfall of needles.

I can’t start it then expect to control it.

So I’ll just walk past.

 

Miss Mum, do you miss me?

Miss Mum, do you even know you have left me?

 

On my detour of denial

I found a ‘saviour.’

For a while I thought I’d left the deadly waterfall behind me;

to instead see that he led me to a sea...

A glacier...

He led me to the sea into which I’d melt.

Now I’m alone in an existence she never taught me to live in,

And my sea of tears is drowning me.

 

Miss Mum,

Miss Mum, I’m still waiting on that call,

 I’m still waiting to tell you I love you.

Author's Note

Any feedback welcome ! :)

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

"I fear that one day

The face that composed me

Will be compost

Tread

On."

amazing lines here...the play on words you use...the hoping she is looking over your shoulder reading this...a tribute to her and all she meant to you...and how you are still waiting for her to come back..memories like "a never-ending waterfall of needles"

the memories pricking and stinging like an addiction.

beautiful work...samantha

jacob

[SamanthaSweeney]

That was a touching comment, it touches me because you felt every emotion and meaning I meant to portray.
I pray she sees me now, I pray she is guiding me when I feel I have lost her.
Thank you again Jacob :)

[Graveyardfuck]

This is a lovely piece, great work. :)

[SamanthaSweeney]

Thank you so much for your review ! Much appreciated, as I'm glad you liked it :D