LEGACY

Sometimes at night I miss your top bunk When we were younger We'd argue And they'd say: "you'll miss her, that's your little sister" And now I miss your bunk Staring back at me Sometimes at night I miss watching you Dream You'd twirl and twirl Pulling my hair from Its seams It was hell That house was a cell With a warden that always screams We got older. Past lives given the cold shoulder. These nights I barely dream. But when I lay in bed I think what fun we had Two twin beds your fuzzy sheet plastic stars With our laundry tangled at my feet.

Sometimes I miss her Often more than I should I see her in every reflection Because I'm just a little girl And this woman staring back at me Is undeniably my mother.

I wish I could pick up the phone and hear your voice. Would I call you or stay silent, afraid you’d hear the lie when I say, “I’m okay”? I wish I could sit on your lap, bury my face in your shoulder and cry. Would I let myself be comforted, or paint on a smile, so you wouldn’t worry? Even if I could write letters to heaven, I’d send only the brightest postcards my achievements, my good days, never the failures I fold away. I know you would love me regardless. I know that. Still, I couldn’t bear for you to worry, not about me. I ache when I imagine you watching. Not because I don’t want to see you, but because I don’t want you to see me lost. So what I mean, Mom, is this: Everything is fine. We’re doing great. Love you. I’ll see you soon.