"Tea time!" Mama yells out.
Tea with Mama was -
a time and space at the dining table,
with our Parle-G or Nice biscuits that
we dipped in our tea like we dipped ourselves into thoughts and gossip.
"You shouldn't sing so loud."
Mama would say, as I tried to show off to her
that I knew all the lyrics to a Taylor Swift song.
She would sing in a high tone and soft voice,
we'd laugh because Mama didn't know any of the lyrics and then we'd doze off to sleep.
Some nights I'd wake up, terrified because I felt a Haint around me. I'd turn to the other side and feel safe knowing Mama was with me.
-
Now, I stay awake in fear & I cry alone in my room some days. I play messed up chords with the wrong finger positions on the keyboard, I try to sing, and there's nobody to sing the wrong lyrics with or nobody to laugh with.
Mama is still around, but I'm older now- things have changed.
YOU ARE READING
feelings.
Poetrya very raw description of my feelings. do not expect correct grammar because this is just what I write without editing. a mix of poems and writing on random topics. Raw. Real.
