My tears run like a river upon the page that I hold crumpled in my hands.
They stain the once legible razor-sharp words, which pierce my heart.
They tore out my heart and abandoned me lifeless when I first read them.
You told me once before you would always be there,
That nothing would separate us.
When the horrible nightmares woke me,
Didn’t you say you would always be there to run to?
Now all I remember is you lifeless in a coffin.
Pale and tragic in white lace lining casket.
Your love didn’t comfort me then.
Your love didn’t hold me as I walked silently away to the car.
You love didn’t help when I found the dreadful note in your diary the next day.
You speak of the love for me, as any mother could.
Yet only you mother,
Can tear away any love of my childlike mind then and now.
Year after year upon your death day,
I cry remembering you, holding that blasted letter.
What am I to do when I graduate?
Or what of when I marry?
These thoughts assail me as I mourn you a decade later.
The loss of you is so hard to abide still.
As my sobs subside into quiet trembles, I place the note away.
It brings only pain when I remember you.
But I dare not forget your last words as mother.