Faith Writes

Sleep became my mothers secret lover.
Forgotten at school, I knew she was locked in his warm embrace.

Asking my father where he was going resulted in a snarky reply of, "To the moon."

It wasn't long before I appreciated his time spent on the moon.

My mother laughed and played music. She relayed cherished tales of my Grandmother; who would whoop the ass of any woman foolish enough to tamper with her man of her children.

A light and a certain vibe filled the house. Peace
Peace that never existed when my parents were in close proximity.

It was hard to believe they ever loved each other. Years down the road, my dad told me that they were the same person in High School.
But they didn't grow together.

He blossomed into a social butterfly.
She stayed in her cocoon receiving small glimpses of light.
Me and my sister made her glow.
Watching her stagnate made me dim.

It pains me to watch the beautiful women everyone says I look so much like fade.
Bitterness and anger stand where she used to be.

My aunt told me she wasn't always like this. Not when she was young.
When her mother died a large part of her died.

I can't deny that a part of me resents the woman I never met. She took my mothers joy with her to the grave.