Wow, instead of writing my lab report, like I should be doing, I decided to write a poem instead. Probs not my best decision, but it really needed to come out. Tell me how it is?

Its been a year and a half since the last time I heard your voice;

I don’t think its supposed to fade away this fast.

Only little bits of it are left, some good, most bad.

The best memories I have are of your voice,

Your voice when you used to sing to me.

Sure, maybe it wasn’t the prettiest voice ever,

After all, my “problems with tonality” all came from you.

But you always sang so carefully, so concentrated,

As if everyone could hear as we flew past in our car,

When really, it was just you, me, and the radio.

Your song was lightness, joy, innocence, my childhood.

The worst memories are your tears,

Brought on by the stupid, single mindedness of

A self-centered, grieving little boy,

who started missing you before you were even gone.

Jesus Christ, could that brother of mine scream.

The stupidest things would set it off.

That seemed to be our relationship, the three of us,

A series of stupid things, a never ending train of battles,

Each leaving a new scrape in its wake

Without enough time to fully heal between.

It was always like a knife in my chest,

digging a little deeper each time he said the words:

“I hate you! I hate you! I HATE YOU!”

But you just stood there and took it,

Your face frozen in a mask of stone strength.

It wasn’t until after he left that the tears came down.

It kills me to remember that I was the only one

Who would stay to see you cry,

Just because you didn’t have the strength to send me away.

There is something oh-so-wrong

About a daughter holding a mother,

About a 52 year old woman,

Sobbing on the shoulder of a 12 year old girl.

But that was my place, standing there, shoring you up,

When all you wanted to do was collapse with the oncoming tide.

It’s still my place. Not with you anymore, but for everyone else.

I think I’d be a little lost in this world

Without bearing the burdens of another soul beside my own.

I don’t want you to worry about me momma,

I’m okay, really, I am.

It’s just – I’ll always have a little voice in the back of my head.

Your voice, I think,

Whispering, reminding me that I’m incomplete.

There will always be a piece of me missing,

a bit of my heart that was eaten away just as slowly and surely

As the cancer ate away at you.

I want to tell you everyday

How much I love and miss you

Even though I know I can’t.

But do you know what, momma?

You were the example for everything that I ever wanted to be, and

Everyday I feel myself becoming a little more like you.

I hope that, wherever you are,

You’re proud of the person I’ve become,

Because that’s all I’ll ever need.