Dear Mom

Dear Mom,

A relationship is a funny thing that hangs in the air

It can be ice cold like the snowy December mornings

And sometimes it can be like the Summer’s humidity-- suffocating us to the point my fingers turn blue

Even when my fingers are numb they can still remember the feeling of holding your hand

Like a strong grip that never seems to let go

I clung to you as a child

Your arms forever an entrance for me

You are my shelter

Protecting me from the world and the darkness that lurks around the empty corner

Your familiar fragrance is like smelling home

Home is where the heart is and my heart belongs in you

But it is in that very same heart we share that I know holds the most power in my life

It is the heart that can be broken by your simple actions and unapologetic words

The words you say to me are like small needles piercing my skin

And I know you don’t mean it

But that doesn’t make the needle any more dull

And eventually, after enough words, my youthful skin will turn into an old punctured rag

Ready to be thrown away