At Mother’s Bosom

She was home. A safe haven.
Very different from the protection a father could offer.

Had I known of the emptiness I would suffer;
the darkness that was waiting to be my shadow,
I would have entered that grave too.

It wasn’t her life alone that ended with her demise.
No one understood.
It was the end of mine too.
Chastised.

The warmest place had always been close to mother’s bosom.

But then came you.

Bringing back memories of mother.
Things that came naturally- to her;
Things and attributes I now see in you.

No warmth springs from the well of loving oneself.

You took my pieces
and gave me peace.

So now, I shall love you too.

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5 Comments Add yours

  1. Sisi jacobs says:

    Friend, lover, companion? I suppose you take peace and solace where you find it

    1. DeMorrieaux says:

      Yes, I guess so.

      But even more. I’ve been thinking about kids growing up without one or both parents.

      Men: For those who were old enough to remember their mothers before they passed on.. does the memory or mother influence their choice of future partner?
      When seeking a partner, I want to believe men generally look out for special traits/attributes (e.g. those of their mothers); does this hold even more true for those who have suffered a(n early) loss? Do men who more or less grew up without a mother seek both a companion/lover AND mother in their wives?

  2. 0latoxic says:

    Lemme get all narcissistic and ask:

    Were you thinking of me when you wrote this?

    *runs away* :p

    1. DeMorrieaux says:

      Not really.
      But right after I did, I went back to read this!

      *bear hug*

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