Mother’s Day

The prophet you offered me
warned that silence
like a cancer grows.
The only thing
worse than silence
is their Truth.
One of your brothers
questioned your worthiness.
Another reminded me (a child)
that I wouldn't see Heaven.
Is it any wonder she self-destructed?
Is it any wonder she disappeared?
Even you, the strongest of us,
broke, one piece at a time, but
only after we moved back
to our dearest
and darkest demons.
I, the last one standing,
long to live somewhere
not here.

–Cynthia Sillitoe
May 2017