How I came to suffering blindly,
choking, lungs filled with dirt—
bare chest, ballet taffeta and shoes,
skin the colour of thick cream,
she stamps her tiny feet upon
the mound that will be my grave,
and the earth shudders.
Accepting the chaos, the pain.
I’m too bone-tired to care.
Once a bouncing beauty, now
a fading light without colour …
Flicker. Flickering. Flame about to
pass out. She stamps it out.
I used to be the person her
eyes shone for. Gleaming shells
as she watched me dress for the
occasion. Pearl earrings, Chanel,
high heels, dresses, red lipstick.
Her eyes now roam away. It’s the
floor or past me. I try, but she
won’t reach mine. She’s frightened
I’m to be her destiny.
June 11, 2019
About This Poem:
It’s been hardest for my daughter since I was diagnosed with vestibular migraines and seizures. Overnight Mummy went from being the “bouncing beauty” to debilitated. She’s a tough nut with a heart of silk, my darling girl, but I know she’s scared it could be genetic. I hope it isn’t genetic. I hope she’ll be spared. I hope one day her eyes will shine for me again.
