Talked to a co-worker about reconciliation today
Knew his family was a bit fucked up
Told him about a friend who shred his family up in an emotional food
processor
Cut off his mom to spite his face, as it were
Seems Alfred knew something of that
Discovered family unspoken of until he was eighteen
Made me think that you never know of anyone else's pain just
to look at them
I knew my grandmother's pain because it was my own
Distorted through the lens of her motherhood
I was a kid and didn't understand
To look at me, could anyone see through to the pain?
For years I wore it up front, but most folks couldn't see
Then I lost my own baby
The pain wasn't supplanted exactly, but altered
The loss of Hope burns within my heart like a hot coal
Constantly stoked by my longing for who she could've been
Who she would've been
My solace is in reality, strangely enough.
There is comfort to watch her twin and her older sister
They grow and thrive and change
While she stays in my memory and in my heart
A perfect, painful diamond |
|