a mother's love

tuesday 16th october 2001 @ 22:57

a mother holds her daughter close to her chest. they do not feel the passing streams of schoolchildren and weary commuters. the girl is sobbing hard and fast, her words wet and misshapen, but not misunderstood. mother presses her face to her child's, soaking up her tears and pain into her soft shoulder, and as they embrace the girl's limp hand drops her satchel to the pavement amongst tired autumn leaves.

why does she cry?

when i was a child, when i cried i did not let my mother see. i did not want her uncomfortable arms around me, her anxious voice to whisper in my ear. she never held me. i never asked her to. now our hugs are awkward, forced, unsure.