the haunting echo from my childhood
Apr 28, 2024
the stains of her absence take shape in a fastfood chain’s brewed tea,
and storebought cut fruits,
or a random guy who is not my father but he brings us cold medicine
this as her ways of conveying, through the craft of someone else’s hand
still, I can’t find my place anywhere that fits inside her days
in the house I have to walk tiptoed as to not wake the arsonist
now every windows I encounter becomes a place where loss occupy
I writhe alone in fever, and this heart attached with its deformed limbs
my lungs devastatingly gasping for an ounce of tenderness
then I watch myself grow to be a tree she may forgot to water
I don’t know a monster can have a mother’s face
unknowingly how far I go, I’m a daughter of one
