The death of a woman met only twice
Gives more pause than she was worth
Anger. Sadness. Pity. And back to Anger again

She was a mother only by biology,
She loved her drugs and drama
More than her children

It was a not so unexpected death
No one was surprised to hear the news
Whether accidentally, or on purpose,
She took her own life

At the disregard of life
At the disrespect for her children
That she leaves it to others to clean
up her mess yet again.

For the 13 year old girl I call cousin
To have to bury her mother
For the 5 year old boy who did the same

For the woman whose greatest gift,
Whose greatest contribution to this world,
To her children, to anyone,
will be her death.

And back to Anger.
At the ones who made her, enabled her
At her alone, for what she has done to her babies.

Mother, if only by biology,
Absent more than 360 days a year,
But bore them she did.
At every.single.stab of pain,
grief, sadness, anger, and
any other emotion her death
has caused, will cause them.


Posted on August 13, 2013, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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