To: Mother Broken
I cried
the day my cat died,
the one you got me for my 12th birthday,
the one we drove across the Cities for
I cried
the day we donated to the homeless,
sobbed
terrified I might see you there
I'm as empty as
Christmas
my heart cold
to protect my son.
He's two, still alive,
in spite of you.
is forgiveness weak?
am I stronger for having hated?
for having
mourned
the strong,
beautiful
woman you were?
YOU ARE READING
To Mother Broken
PoetryAnger seeps through the fabric of lives pulled apart by addiction.
