Member-only story
first.
when you write about us
mom
you tell me
you are always really writing about you
I pause in attempt to explain that
I know you better than anyone else has ever
yet known you and
yet I cannot tell your stories
because they are not my own
I write your stories like a film reviewer
writes
all plot and
my own emotions and responses
this is what happened
and this is how I felt as I watched
it unfold
when I list out the things that I know that I know
you are the first
you are the last
but your list is longer
and penciled
for change
the lens I hold to your growth and
unveiling is all rose tinted and
gold framed and
the triumph I see may feel your
defeat
so I can only say that
when you were born was the first
time I knew that I could know
love
requited
when you spoke my name
was the first time I knew I had a name
and when you will leave
I am gone then
too
