Unscripted
Liberian Literary Magazine Promoting Liberian Literature, Arts and Culture
Unscripted
Cher Antoinette
MAY 2016
“ Mother” that singular word brings all manner of feelings and overwhelming emotions to many if not all of us. The thought of our mother brings comfort and solace; for some there is much regret. Regret that we never took the opportunity to express our gratitude and love for that which was unselfishly given. The poems here today give my perspective, not only as a mother but also as a child who has lost her own.
I WISH I COULD HAVE TOLD YOU
I have listened to your advice. You insisted on telling me how it was for you as a girl and how you did this and that.
I tell you I am tired. I am not listening anymore. I have taken your advice and where has it gotten me? Right here! Just where I DO NOT want to be!
From now on,
I don’ t need you, I don’ t want you I am not listening to you.
But, you can no longer hear me. You are no longer with me.
You are in another place giving advice. Being yourself. Why were you never your true self with ME? Why all the pretense? Why all the hypocrisy? It was not necessary. I would have still loved you. Always, I would have.
But you kept a wedge between us. I cannot understand why you did this but you did. And now, You are gone.
Where are you when I need the strength I saw in you when I was a child? I cannot reach you.
I am angry! Do you understand? Angry! I am your child.
You left me. I hate that but I know I can never hate you. I will always love you, Mummy.
© 2013 MY SOUL CRIES
LETTING GO
Is there anything, anything I can do, to take this feeling of hurt away?
This ache, this physical pain that creeps under my skin; tears at my flesh incapacitates my mind, my heart.
Is there anything, anything I can do to take this feeling of disappointment away?
This confusion that disassembles my logic, shatters my plans and marks me down.
I need to shake this, to reach inside of me: my spirit is not asleep I will awaken. I will rise above this struggle.
My eyes are washed in the tears of years of expression, memories of decisions, harsh words and actions all for the good, for the protection of the spawn of myself.
I have to let go. I leave it in Your hands.
The wings of the White Fairy will protect, the ample breast of Our Mother will soothe and you my child will grow, will thrive because I know you will become the person I know you are. …………………. Cher-Antoinette © 2014
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