mysleze

Mother

You liked the color of olives 

And always wanted to change your last name

As it would alter your destiny

And redeem you from the pain of eternity

Your touch was rough

Your voice - it buzzes in my head 

But I'm not able to memorize

the tone

You carried the smell of a second hand shop

The coats you wore were heavy and

I love them that way too

As a metaphor of 

The mass of troubles on our shoulders

 

I was seeing you in my dreams for months after 

Now

I don't even remember your face

(the face I was looking up to my whole childhood)

Comments2

  • Doggerel Dave

    Sussed out your Profile.
    Seventeen years? English not Your first language? I find both hard to believe.
    Go for it - you have everything within your grasp.
    Regards
    Dave

    • mysleze

      I live in Central Europe, writing in english and translating my own poems helps me with my creative process
      Thank you for your kind words!
      N

    • Goldfinch60

      Good emotive write nawrocka.

      Andy

      • mysleze

        Thank you!
        N



      To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.