artjasgr

i think my mother thinks i'm blind, that i see only my own faults and forget the fractures in her composure, the fissures in her failing heart that keep her awake at night. i fear she thinks i do not see the strength in her scars. i think my mother thinks i'm deaf, that i cannot hear her silent sadness; it has always echoed in the halls of this family home. maybe she thinks i do not hear the wisdom in her words. i think my mother thinks i'm numb, that i do not feel the eternal love in every touch; i know with absolute certainty that no one will ever love me like my mother does. every hug is a blessing that brings me home. but