This Lonely Journey

 

I held you to my breast;
nurtured you, fiercely loved you my child.
Now you walk this line of fear,
You are on this lonely journey, and I weep.

 

I walk it too.
Locking the fear in a box, inside.
Deep inside.
I feel it pushing, bursting to be released,
it is stronger than me.
I paint on a smile; but my voice betrays me.
It breaks; and I cough to hide it,
a tear trickles silently, unbidden.

 

You my child have a strength born of youth.
Each word you deliver is a punch from which I recoil.
A mothers strength is not unlimited not without pause.
We would gladly pay money and take that ride but we cannot.

 

Instead, we wrestle with that overstuffed suitcase of fear,
we paint on the most dazzling smile, but if you look closely the eyes will tell all.
We let you believe we are ignorant of the worst .. we are not.
So until you win the battle which you will; 
we wait for those quiet moments when our tears can flow unchecked and our sobs cannot be heard.
When it is over we are still there; smiling, but one piece less.

 

© 2018 Taylor Crowshaw