Bleeding Memories

In a world unknown where time's river flows in a different arc. My mother is without kin, no birthing marks. No drugs seduction, no choices dire, No shadows of regret, no burdens to tire. At her parents' grave, a moment so deep, Love's touch lingers, farewells to keep. I know of the trials her childhood bore, The struggles she faced, the wounds she wore, But I, too, was a child. I witness her struggles, devoid of affection, A child thrust into a world of imperfection. No bond of love, no shared embrace, Just the echoes of her past, leaving a trace. In her wake, a legacy of insecurity, A mirror reflecting my own impurity. She sowed seeds of self-loathing deep within. So I say to my mother, a figure from a distant past… In this poem of healing, I hope you find your way home, May peace embrace you, wherever you may roam.