Say nothing

When the pain of walking away
Is greater than the pain of staying close to him,
She says nothing.

When she can’t decide which is worse,
Seeing a message from him or not hearing from him at all,
She says nothing.

When all she wants to do is hear his voice
But knows it’s best he never calls,
She says nothing.

When images of him flicker through her mind
Keeping her awake at night,
She says nothing.

When she wants to write him
But knows it’s best she doesn’t,
She says nothing.

When getting him out of her mind
Is so freaking hard it hurts,
She says nothing.

When she can’t decide which is worse,
Meeting him or having not met him at all,
She says nothing.

When the only way to escape him is to sleep
Only to have him follow her into her dreams,
She says nothing.

When all she wants is to say “I miss you”
But knows it’s better that she doesn’t,
She says nothing.

When she wonders, “what’s the point of having a heart that feels deeply
When life inflicts so much pain?”
She says nothing.

When praying to God to make her heart not feel
Is the only prayer she’s prayed in days,
She says nothing.

When she thinks he should have left her heart broken and hidden in that box
Than to have brought it back to life,
She says nothing and simply cries…


*Originally published May 2015

Contents written: May 23 2015 | Edited: May 24 2015 | Copyright 2015 Moylom Enterprises



I Wish I Knew How To Miss You

There are days when I want to call and tell you I miss you, especially on the days when I long to have a mother’s hug  telling me everything will be alright. But if I called and said, “I miss you” we both know that would be a lie. I know that I love you because you are my mother — before my birth you could have ended my life but instead, you brought me into the world, cared for me, taught me how to be independent and how to survive. For this I am grateful and will always love you.

But as I grew, it was painfully obvious that we saw the world very differently and this affected our relationship significantly which fueled my need to separate myself from you for the sake of my sanity. I do not cast blame because I understand you have a right to your views for they were/are based on your upbringing, but I too have a right to my views and choose to associate with those of like mind so I can feel that my voice is being heard.

The tension I feel in your presence fuels my need to escape the mental torment so even though I long for my mother, you are not the mother with whom I can be my true self.

We communicate well now because distance separates us. Conversations go unspoken — buried — for fear such utterings would cause an eruption of ill feelings, resentment, sadness, inadequacy, regret, longing, loss… You gave up a career to be a mother, but there were times you made us to feel guilty for your choices. That’s so unfair! What an awful burden to place on a child.

Your standards of perfection were set so high, only you could meet them. But still I toiled to earn your admiration and only got your criticisms instead. My best was never good enough but still I tried.

At 19 I left home to make my own way in the world, finally free to be me. But my need for approval was still there, instead however, I sought it from others. I never found it in my personal relationships, but instead from my work. And so it seems I am incapable of bonding with anyone for I too now have your ridiculously high standards hammered into my brain. Oh the irony!

So here I sit, in the middle of the rubble of my life longing for my mom to put her arms around me and comfort me but I can’t communicate that to you for it would be a lie. It seems that I miss the idea of what you are supposed to be, but in actuality I don’t know how to miss the real you.

Written January 8 2015 | Edited June 10 2015 | Copyright 2015 Moylom Enterprises