Watching him sleep
I devour him with my mind.
I engulf his presence
Loving him with my eyes.
How beautiful he is
His eyes, shut, dreaming.
How soft is his skins texture
Hearing the rhythm of his breathing.
Dare I touch
This heavenly creature?
To gently feel
His angelic features.
Maybe just one.
A brush really.
Why can't I touch him?
Even though he loves me.
Why, if I have his heart
Do I feel so much less?
I am what he needs.
I suit his needs best.
He moves.
Have my thoughts awaken him.
This fire in my heart is
Eternally bright, never dim.
I say my prayers
And thank God for this man.
Who, it seems was sent
To lovingly hold my hand.
When I read this for the first time I felt like it should have been him writing these words for her, not the other way around. Nichole gave him her heart so completely and he just threw it back to her. I am sure they had some good times, but no matter how many good times, that never gave him the right to mistreat her.
I know that when you are in love with someone everything seems so perfect and forever. It should feel like that, but not if you don't feel the same from your partner. If you have read Nichole's poetry up t this point you know how badly he hurt her, and how good Nichole was at hiding it.
This is just a mother in pain venting. I "talk" to Nichole almost daily and I tell her how much I miss her and love her, and how much I wish she would have come to me with her inner demons. I do not have the ability to talk things over with my little girl. To ask her why and to try and understand where her head is at. To offer her my years of experience and a never ending supply of hugs and kisses.
I am not saying my reactions or responses would have been perfect but they would definitely have been out of love. Please talk to your parents, I know we seem so stupid and so out of touch, but no one on this planet could love you more! If they don't listen or don't "get" it, keep talking (not screaming) until they do. I wish you all the best, you deserve to be happy.
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Words a Mother Never Heard (Wattys2016)
PoetryA young woman who was always the life of the party, quick to tell a joke, always smiling and happy, tragically dies at age 23. What her mother found after her death reflected a much different young woman, her poetry. Her words showed a young woman c...
