Mama, Hold Still – 05/07/09
I envision her kneeling down, simultaneously as she recalls the incident and my barriers begin to fall. I have felt this feeling before, where sharp sensations tear at the corner of my eyes, even as I remain a bystander, my sight obstructed because I am not a witness, and can only imagine through words recounting what happened. And yet, while I cannot detect any cracks in her fragile tone, my heart breaks as she speaks, and though her voice is solid, her slightly swollen and red eyes attest to her truest feelings.
She is broken. And I am breaking just as steadily.
How could she kneel down to someone like you? How could you watch her?
And why does everyone cry alone?
For whatever reasons, my tears won’t fall. I won’t look at those eyes as she states, “I just want to live for a few more years.”
I falter within but there is nothing left inside to break. I am broken.
And no more words will come to life, for I am catching her tears.