A Letter For My Mother

A letter consists of words, of which I lack the right ones now.

But with this overwhelming feeling I feel, I’ll find the words somehow.

I wish I could recall the times I fit inside your arms,

And looked at you with infant eyes, as you cradled me from harm.

A child with a life to live is the embodiment of innocence,

No stakes, no stains, not a single reason for repentance.

It makes me pity any man or woman who must go on to live their lives

Without the magic touch of a mother, for whom my need intensifies.

We grow up, move out and fail and fall and hit the rockiest of bottoms,

But that fallen man needs even more that mother’s touch he’s since forgotten. 

As I tremble at the thought of a life unmet with your endless love,

Please let my meager words slip on these mem’ries like a glove. 

My infant times were followed inevitably by some ornery toddler years,

And times I yelled and screamed and times you wiped away my tears.

I acted out and angsty towards you for years and years to come,

For fear of not knowing who I was or what I was running from.

As I stopped and turned around and looked into my own angry eyes,

I softened at the thought of the thing I was too scared to realize. 

I always feared I was not worthy of a love with no conditions.

I convinced myself that showing love was weak, against tradition.

Despite my silly thoughts and modes of insecure operation, 

You ALWAYS showed me the same love that I once received with hesitation. 

As I grow and reminisce on things I wish I’d done or said, 

I pray my love for you is known and felt right now instead.

“Mama’s Boy” was once a term I feared and ran away from, 

But because of you, I know myself. I’m me, my mother’s son.