xxix. mother god

13 2 0
                                    

a stranger once stopped me on the street and said, there is so much sadness inside the confinements of your skin it bleeds through your eyes my dear child. he then got on his knees and said ten du'as for my healing.

mother, there are days my soul weighs so heavy inside my body i cannot fathom getting out of bed. i took a week off from work because my heart was in pain. a semester from school because my lips had sown themselves together. an eight year sabbatical from my body because i was too afraid to live inside my own skin.

mother, mother, mother, i need guidance.
mother, mother, mother, give me hope.

my sadness turned into fear which took on the guise of happiness, but in reality was corruption and loneliness mixed with hints of devastation and anger and oh mother how well i know anger. anger hid me cookies when i was six and slipped me whiskey when i was sixteen. mother, i do not know how to rid myself of these bitter emotions. mother tell me that there is nothing wrong with me. mother, mother, mother. why do you not answer my prayers.

honey, i'm healing | poetry and proseWhere stories live. Discover now