as the day comes to a close,
and the house settles in for the night,
the clock ticks-clicks into the thickening
silence, a breathing silence, you claim as your own.
You’re reminded of late night conversations
with your mum about everything and nothing.
How sitting across from her, you longed to be as kind and giving as she but not as lonely.
You’ve witnessed how she never had a chance once everything
shifted and drifted off course after
her one and only love died. You witnessed their love
desiring that kind of love for yourself and grabbing at any given at times in desperation.
Now you realise, their love was conjured up in a child’s mind to be all
and festered in a woman’s heart to be nothing.
