When my mom died I put her in a box,
And put her in the corner of my mind.

Compartmentalized pain; a bandaged wound;
A quarantined sickness; a rationalized change.

I was fine.

But the box wasn’t simply filled with darkness and grief.
Mom was there as well, behind my lock and key.

I built a prison of leaden walls to keep myself alive.
And I trapped my mom inside.

Thank God Sue is a fucking powerhouse.

It took years but mom broke out of the box.
And all I could feel was her love.

All the love I couldn't give myself.
All the love I thought I didn't deserve.
All the love only a mother can share.

I was flooded with shame for walling her off,
But Sue asked that I forgive and forget.

I beat myself up for being so cold,
But Sue put that to rest.

It's now been six years since I've seen you,
But I hear you everyday.

It's strange to think we'd be closer now,
Than before you went away.

I love you mom.
And I miss you.
And I'm so fucking grateful you chose to stay.