honey

Hot hands grip a cold dial
tone

words you've
said

      not
intentionally meant to hurt

caught the scab of
an old wound

your innocent
conversation drew forth years of
pain

     did I mean less to
the person who gave us life?

heartbreak I
thought buried overflows

    
to sting my eyes

a need to sob and wail my
loss likens me to a small
child

     this I don't
say

You
spoke of such closeness between you and
her

    me not
included

I sat across from you both; I was there
you know

did you see then, do you see now

what love and comfort given you was
denied
to me?

My last
hope of being cherished by our
mother

     died with
her

to never feel her arms around me

or to hear the cooing balm in her voice
comforting me

     &;quot;it
will be alright
honey&;quot;

     lives only
in my dreams

Some day, when
I'm stronger, tell me what it felt
like

     to have our mother
hold you.