What kind of mother will I be today?
The question follows me every morning I wake.
Will I be patient, gentle, warm, and kind,
or lost inside the chaos of my mind?
Will I build them up and help them grow,
or let my own hurt start to show?
Will I laugh with them and join their games,
Or let the memories pass me by as I disassociate?
Some days I feel I'm doing everything wrong,
like I'm too weak to be the one they lean upon.
I replay every moment, every word I've said,
while guilt and worry circle through my head.
When the house is quiet and the day is through,
I count my failures instead of what I do.
I wonder if they'd be better without me here,
then hate myself for thinking it through tears.
I carry storms they were never meant to see,
yet somehow they still run straight to me.
They reach for my hand,
they call out my name,
And everyday they love me the same.
No matter how broken,
no matter how worn,
they still look at me
With so much warmth.
So I wipe my eyes and face another day,
though part of me still wants to run away.
Because losing myself is a price I can pay,
but losing them would break me in every way.
They are my heart,
my reason,
my light.
The ones I keep choosing
each day and each night.
And though I fear I'll make mistakes too,
like the ones that left old wounds im still growing through,
I pray they'll remember the love I gave,
not every moment I failed to be tame.
So tomorrow I'll rise and I'll try once more,
because they're the reason I keep fighting for.
And maybe one day I'll finally see,
the mother they need has always been me.
-Krissy. C
M
What kind of mother will I be today? The question follows me every morning I…
