I inherited my mother’s eyes.
Not blue like the sea,
Nor green like the hills,
But deep brown.
Like the roots that ceaselessly cling to life.
Like the earth that binds all things together.
Like the hair of the boy that I can never forget.
He followed me back.
He held me down on a bed that wasn’t mine,
Put fingers in places that weren’t his.
The shame outweighed the pain of him inside me.
So I closed my eyes,
Buried my head in the pillow,
And clenched the sheets in my hands.
Like the roots that match my eyes that my mother gave me.
As my reflection stares back at me,
And I see my mother’s face,
I know that I will never tell her.
The circles under her eyes hold the weight of years of worry,
Years of pains that even I do not know.
So I will not be the one to add more darkness.
She will never hear of the night,
When I wished I was buried deep in the earth,
That matches my eyes that my mother gave me.
Wow! I am utterly mesmerized by this shock factor. It’s beautifully haunting. Thank you for sharing something so deeply personal.
Thank you for the support!
This is amazingly written with such a sadness in it that touches me. So many emotions I felt reading this and it took great courage to write this. Well done.
Thank you so much
Yeah.. this was a powerful piece of writing.
You kept my attention the whole way through. And the repetition was flawless.
I liked this a lot..
That said – the story was sad, & you shared it eloquently. She sounds like a survivor.
Nicely penned!
Thanks I appreciate that!