DEAR MOTHER....

" 2 more years"
you say_
an informal declaration
of my marriage.
My mind hisses,
I warn myself
 to hold back.
I bit my tongue-
after all it's a joke.
Like a crow 
I collect twigs of past
and hides it, carefully,
to build a home
peaceful for you.
Every night
 I wash away the old me,
with tears and blood.
The old me, 
and the new one
the difference
you never know.
I huddle softly 
around the house
thinking of the
hundredth way to tell
you about the 
only man I ever loved,
the one you hate.
You think  I am 
awake because of my
1am cravings 
and offer me
bread and nutella.
I chew and eat
 my grief along with it,
his soft smile itches 
the edges of my brain.
Every morning,
I find a girl 
looking back at me,
her dark circles singing
the memory of 
a gone spring.
Sometimes I offer her
a smile, a compliment 
for her scars.
I call her  by my name,
the one he gave.
Everyday
I think of him, 
his black dreamy eyes and messy hair..
but I stop, abruptly,
afraid that I'll fall
for him, again.
I write a thousand poems,
the same words
the same pain
different permutations..
but I burn them,
religiously,
my funeral pyre...
" 2 years", you say
and I smile,
for you don't know that
two minutes equals me
a painful eternity of existence I hate.

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