A dark thought creeps
Across my mind
Strange tendrils seep
Across my waking hours,
Where previously they were confined
To the cold and late hours.
This thought brings no warmth
With it’s freezing touch.
My heart quickens, beating faster.
So I roll it around
And savour it too much,
A bitter morbid desire:
That perhaps it would be easier on me
If you had died all those years ago,
I could have taken this time to grieve,
And I wouldn’t hold on to so much hope
That you’d return to me
With your laughter
Ringing in my ears.
But now your just another zombie
In the shape of my mother…
But I have no other…
So I hope you’re doing well,
Wherever you now dwell,
That you don’t see a demon in me,
When you look at photos of your baby.
I hope my cousin is a better daughter
To you
Than I could ever be.