The Light of the Moon

I only want the light of the moon

and your love.

I’m lying here on the floor, on blankets

just like we used to.

I miss you.

He hugged me today, kissed me on the cheek, and caressed my face.

He couldn’t speak.

It didn’t matter.

His eyes said everything.

“I’ve missed you”

“I’m sorry”

“I should’ve taken better care of her”

“I wish she were still here”

He squeezed my hand as tears came to his eyes.

 Someone once said he was a monster.

Not good to my mother.

I have no hate in my heart.

He’s all I have left.

Except for the moon.

And the sun.

The sun will rise tomorrow

and dry my tears.

It’s quiet outside.

And I’m alone.

My son’s gone on the weekends.

I’m supposed to be the protector.  The mama bear.

They are men now.

Am I still their mama bear?

The breeze feels good

Yet I cough.

I feel lonely

knowing my family is crazy.

Aunts, Uncle, sister, brother.

I used to want a new family.

Instead I have new friends.

I used to want a magic wand to take all the pain away.

Now I am strong.

I can see where I belong.

I see the poor old woman in the crystal ball and know that is not my future.

A reminder to have a different sort of life.

The men in the family have been angry.

I’m changing the tune.

I am not a victim.

That is my new song.

I stand proud and strong.

I am a woman.   A mother.

One day I will have a loving man.

Someone to hold my hand.

I am changing history.

I no longer let fear rule me.

I am compassionate not vengeful.

I do still worry.

About young men

and women.

Sons and daughters.

I know I can’t do it all.

I’ve learned not to do it alone.

I think of you Dear Reader, while I write.

Then I feel his body next to mine.

His embrace.  His love.

He is not a monster.

I am not a fool.

Not out for vengeance.

I’m here for love

For the unloved.

So I write.

Do you understand me?

I know we all just want to be happy.

We will keep reliving out pasts unless we choose otherwise.

I sit with the moon tonight.

It’s moved higher in the sky.

I can feel the breeze.

I know you’re out there somewhere.

I spin my tales.

The moon reminds me.

Sometimes, it’s good to be alone.

About Suzanne

I write poetry, flash fiction, quotes and personal essays. Words flow forth like a river that cannot be dammed. Writing is my soul.
This entry was posted in Forgiveness, Mother, Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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