3.42PM on my SundayI know a girl
She puts the color inside of my world
But she's just like a maze
Where all of the walls are continually changed
...
So fathers be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers
Who turn into mothers
So mothers be good to your daughters too
She puts the color inside of my world
But she's just like a maze
Where all of the walls are continually changed
...
So fathers be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers
Who turn into mothers
So mothers be good to your daughters too
***
***
Mother's Day is fast approaching. For most of my life, this day has always been surrounded by an ugly drought of affection. The manufactured holiday is more of a tragic reminder of what I do not have with my mother and what Hallmark expects that I should have.
***
***
Father's Day has only once been cloudy, but not so much that I forgot there is a sun. I still was aware of my love and my connection to Daddy. On the other hand, it does not take much to become completely blinded by the storm that is my relationship with my mother.
***
***
***
This year might be our last Mother's Day. Not that I anticipate either of us to die, as that is a possibility for all mortal things, but I simply feel like I will be unable, at least for a while, to acknowledge her as a 'mother'. She will always be my mother, but I don't feel much obliged to celebrate her motherhood.
