Mama's always told me
that the world may seem so fine
Like silk and wine
but everyone's lying
Lying to your face
about how much they love you
When they don't
Mama's always told me
that they don't love me
No one truly does
The only one who really does
Is her and her alone
Because everyone else is out to hurt me
Mama proved to be right
And her fright
Burned fear of trusting anyone else but her
And it hurts to say that she was wrong
Mama there are people who care
But then
Then
Every time I try to prove it wrong
She's somehow right
And I can't seem to down the idea that
Everyone is alone here
We're all together but we're all alone here
Mama's always told me
That no one loves me
That now it's just "you and me"
About the Creator
Hiya Aman
21 y/o with a love for stories
Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson2 days ago in Fiction
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