Sunday, 10 March 2013


mother, love, sparse words
in a faraway tongue, unevenly spread
our connection- mother, our connection
it feels dead, 
do you still exist? 
I barely do- 
our relationship, 
mother has been reduced
to a half-conversation
in the waiting room of a vague ward-
through wires; poor reception, 
neither receptive, 
am I reflection, of you mother?
have I forgotten what you look like? 
have you forgotten how I am?
have I forgotten how you speak? 
mother, your love I seek. 
your comfort, your certainty
now and then, I seek it.
I wonder, is it genetic? 
this detachment, you said so
you told me, to never get too close
mother, this is what you taught me
to remain sane, one must detach
I'm missing you 
though to be true, to be real 
'missing', it is an abstract thing
and I lack the capabilities 
to engage with it, with 'missing'
only absence exists
nothing more, 
nothing less,
just absence
but know that I love you
mother, I want your warmth
 I want to speak your language
I'm in anguish-
absence, remind me
tell me to be better
tell me to be strong
tell me mother
that I do belong
some place 
in this empty lonely world. 
see mother, 
you kept me grounded
now here I am
 more confounded
than ever before
see, I've been at war 
with myself for so long
and still, even now, 
every day is a struggle
and I'm struggling to get through
I can see into hell and I can't tell 
you how hard this is mother,
that's why I don't pick up the phone
and dial your number 
mother, I don't want you to come back
because I lack, the spirit 
of your real daughter
the one you love-
I want to make you proud
I wish I knew how...