deepundergroundpoetry.com
I loved you most days
my mother, a stern breeze before the storm, most days
she is kind, loving, understanding
only every day not near those I truly needed
she, a volatile concoction one part sugar and spice, ninety eight parts scorned
too many times a kid torn, he never knew rhymes could ring true
the times I saw her flip, sharply
a woman casting out, she dare try anything to spur you
fasting on empathy, her duress, self righteous breath
defines love to me
it wasn't seen by a heart but through gritted teeth
I knew most days she loved me
I loved my mother
morals, dreams placed in glass
kneaded by her hands
faced me on days my eyes could not
love fought hard times
disdain caught, wrapped in reverb of good memories
understandingly, I reprieved her
time and time again
that having been said
I loved her most days
she trained to deal with shitty hands, stories
of the pains she felt ingrained, to make the best of it
through things one shouldn't have to, she did away
(her father’s bond, defiled touch of ill-gotten love
a husband more abrasive then her family’s spurs
she claimed these would never change her
acts that through it all would fail her)
and I knew it all, the man whom she saw in me
an apathy of my chemistry to spur duress
her love painted targets on my chest
the wrath let out as waves of all the tears held in
her broke bones, to words weld wounds never there
unknowingly they still hurt her
never would you see it
the veins that held her in, broken skin, numb
and too strong for my disdain to seep through
there were more times I felt in her past than she knew
if you were to ever read this
know, you taught me to see past it all
times I wanted to give it back
as good as you ever brought your shit, I didn't
you taught me to walk away, to watch what I say
that those you love, you hurt the most
as all these days past by
when my child inside asked why
never did you think I didn't love you
I didn't want you to, even though
I only loved you most days
I don't love you today, goodbye
she is kind, loving, understanding
only every day not near those I truly needed
she, a volatile concoction one part sugar and spice, ninety eight parts scorned
too many times a kid torn, he never knew rhymes could ring true
the times I saw her flip, sharply
a woman casting out, she dare try anything to spur you
fasting on empathy, her duress, self righteous breath
defines love to me
it wasn't seen by a heart but through gritted teeth
I knew most days she loved me
I loved my mother
morals, dreams placed in glass
kneaded by her hands
faced me on days my eyes could not
love fought hard times
disdain caught, wrapped in reverb of good memories
understandingly, I reprieved her
time and time again
that having been said
I loved her most days
she trained to deal with shitty hands, stories
of the pains she felt ingrained, to make the best of it
through things one shouldn't have to, she did away
(her father’s bond, defiled touch of ill-gotten love
a husband more abrasive then her family’s spurs
she claimed these would never change her
acts that through it all would fail her)
and I knew it all, the man whom she saw in me
an apathy of my chemistry to spur duress
her love painted targets on my chest
the wrath let out as waves of all the tears held in
her broke bones, to words weld wounds never there
unknowingly they still hurt her
never would you see it
the veins that held her in, broken skin, numb
and too strong for my disdain to seep through
there were more times I felt in her past than she knew
if you were to ever read this
know, you taught me to see past it all
times I wanted to give it back
as good as you ever brought your shit, I didn't
you taught me to walk away, to watch what I say
that those you love, you hurt the most
as all these days past by
when my child inside asked why
never did you think I didn't love you
I didn't want you to, even though
I only loved you most days
I don't love you today, goodbye
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