There you are.

Even a 1,000 miles away,

My closest impersonators, didn’t believe me.

They poured out so quickly,

Like a cloud with too much rain.

This is normal even a 1,000 miles away.

I couldn’t trust them like a man giving his son his car keys.

New Year’s Eve was too much to handle, despite her exotic role as a mother.

They were infatuated with pinning my older sister down on the bed, while my younger sister was forced down by the fire.

Even if I was a 1,000 miles away, it stung like a honey bee near an orange tree.

They tied me to the tree with poisonous hugs.

I couldn’t cry.

Go outside, walk the missing actions, because the snow is melting and I am in action.

Even if I am a 1,000 miles away.

They have me under a DIVERSE section where only I stand: in this room where I am alone with the missing birthday gifts you were obligated to provide for the past 15 years.

Under this mistletoe I don’t have any kisses that I deserve from a loving mother.

I couldn’t love like the old man sitting alone in his retirement home.

The cord between us two is torn, it is SUPERFICIAL, but if you called a little more it would heal.

The snow would stay, and my blushing would never go away, once you say hi, I feel alive.

You would bring snow to California, when coming back from Colorado.

I couldn’t feel alone unlike the homeless man coming back from Iran.

I feel safe even a 1,000 miles away.

YOU would give me advice, and YOU would take your role as a mother, even if  YOU are a 1000 miles away.

I wish you would stay.

You do stay.

I couldn’t let go of our new memories, when you picked the door into my life instead of running out the other, the snow lifted, and time went back. 

I feel loved because you healed the scar.

I never knew the feeling to actually cry from happiness, even if  YOU were a thousand miles away.