Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Dear Mom

You reek of death.
Even your mere sight brings a stench of pain...it seeps into my hair and reminds me of your sorrow.
My throat collapses; even your shadows suffocate.
My heart pounds to breathe and my lungs loose rhythm.

What is this you have done to yourself?
What is this you have drowned in?

Even your house swims.

Come.
Let me anoint you with a fragrance that is sweet.
Come.
Let me braid your locks and adorn your crown with flowers.
Come.
Let me show you hope which won't sink.