Inspiration by Lady Karrie

I cant talk
I wont talk
I dont talk about my Mother
You see, I just cant talk about her
Its too raw, too painful, too deep
Those scars.
Well, they will never heal.
Time doesn't heal you know.
It's all a god damn lie.

I dont want to remember the date she died.
I dont want to visit the place she lies.
I dont want to.

She was beautiful
she was my Mother,
When she entered a room.
Without even seeing her.
You felt it.
Her femininity
Her strength.
Her presence.
You were drawn to turn to her
Hypnotized by that power.

She had very little in terms of material possessions.
She had little money.
Always struggling
She always fought, never lay down.

She had never left our little village.
Never felt the Mediterranean sun on her pale shoulders
Or dipped her blood red painted toes in a warm sea.

In her small bedroom.
In front of the her perfume strewn dressing table.
I saw her gaze at her reflection her eyes were vacant
Unfocused.
I asked what she was doing.

Those words tear though me still..

"I am being punished by God, she said. I have been vain. I have dwelt
too much on my beauty. Ive cared about my looks too much and
Ive not always been a good person, God is punishing me"

Those words still rip me apart
Fuck you God
Fuck You!

The cancer ate her away piece by piece,
like a plague of locusts descending on a beautiful ripe field of corn.
This proud woman, this ferocious fighter, this powerful female
Day by day i watched it devour her
piece by piece i saw it consume her

Doctors, nurses, even her friends couldn't bear to look at her.
This Quasimodo, this monster, that this damned plague created.

i held her hand,
With adoration and love.
through those last days
those last hours
those last seconds
Fuck You........ God

My mother inspired me. She continues to do so.

I wish I could be as much a woman
as my mother was.

Brave. Independent. Strong. Loyal. Fierce. Loving. Beautiful.

I dont talk
I wont talk
I cant talk about My Mother.