a dream

a wish

a hope

 

something

I understand

can never

come true

 

what do I want

from the memories?

why do I keep

holding onto this

agner?

this hate?

 

my father 

looks down

at the wood

the glass

of the table

 

cannot look

me in the eyes

cannot but

speak with the

ever present 

accusing tone

 

'I think you

secretly

enjoyed it'

 

'I think you

think you are special 

because of the PTSD

because of your scars'

 

I can but 

listen

tears drowning

me out

crashing down 

on my face

 

my mind 

tries

I reach out

as I often

do

 

my brother 

stares

disgust

warping his

usually kind

face

 

'No one cares'

 

his mantra

his constant 

response

to my cries

 

he is not 

the only one

 

sometimes 

I think

my mother was

the only one

who cared

 

'It matters'

 

She'd say

 

She'd insist

 

She is gone

now

 

She left

 

and I

cannot 

comprehend

 

I cannot

 

Mother,

 

Why did you

leave?

Published by Agnes S Kamalnath