Whispers of The Soul: Poems and Musings

Mother

I am the sole bearer of her dreams,

An only child, destined to carry the weight

Of her aspirations, her unfulfilled desires,

A vessel for her visions of a life unled.

She wants to control every thread of my existence,

To weave a tapestry of her design,

A life she envisions as flawless and refined.

But in this intricate design, I find myself confined.

Every choice, every decision, a tightrope walk

Above a chasm of judgment and disappointment.

A life measured not by my own compass,

But by the weight of her expectations.

I want to live, to breathe, to make choices

Unburdened by the specter of her disapproval,

Yet, the fear of disappointment looms large,

The dread of becoming a fallen star in her eyes,

A bad daughter, a disappointment,

An estrangement from the love that underpins our ties.

I love her, oh how I love her,

But the love is entangled with strings of anxiety,

Each tug and pull, a reminder of my inadequacy,

My inability to meet her standards.

When I dare to voice my desires, my dreams,

She snaps like brittle twigs beneath a heavy boot,

Her anger, a tempest that engulfs me,

Leaving me feeling like a hurricane of disappointment.

I yearn to talk, to bridge the chasm between us,

To mend the rift that widens with each disagreement,

But every attempt is met with a storm of emotion,

And I become the harbinger of her anxiety.

And so, I stand at the crossroads of desire and duty,

Aching to assert my independence,

To loosen the shackles of her control,

But haunted by the specter of severance.

I'm caught in this delicate dance,

Balancing love and longing, fear and freedom.

I want to save us both from the shackles of expectations,

But the fear of shattering what we have keeps me ensnared.

The struggle is real, a web of emotions,

Love and fear entwined like a Gordian knot.

I long to break free, to find my own path,

But the fear of severing the ties that bind me is paralyzing.

I love her, and that love is both my strength and my prison.

It's a painful paradox, a bittersweet battle,

A yearning for selfhood, a love that's unconditional.

But the cost of breaking free may be too high to bear.

T.