dearest mumma

dearest mumma,

mother’s day has rolled around once again, like we needed a day to tell you how much we love you. for you to know how much we love you.

today is our 989th day without you.

there are so many words i have tried to write. nothing… nothing works.

i miss you in everything i do. i think of you always.
even in the most inappropriate of times.

this happened once (but not for too long, thankfully), and had to laugh to myself. i could imagine what you would have said.

‘yeah kel he’s hot.’
‘i’d let him do me.’
‘try before you buy.’
‘can’t fuck a personality.’
a woman after my own heart, and probably the foremost reason i am so goddamn picky.

for so long i felt like i couldn’t live my life properly. i didn’t want to live my life properly. how could i truly be happy if you were no longer around? i realised how stupid this was.
do not ever feel guilty about being happy. that was all i ever asked for, all i will ever want.

i lost a couple of good years to grief. one day i woke up and you popped into my head, what the fuck are you so scared of? you’re not the dead one ya dickhead. live your life for no one else but yourself.

are you really not here anymore? is this not just a dream? some stupid, fucked up nightmare that i’ll get to wake up from, in august 2013, and re-do life with you by my side?

my dearest mumma,

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

you da man roz


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