Maryam Bukar: A Story of Loss

Have you ever picked a pen to write down just how you feel

And you turned blue, ice cold

That you hold onto that piece as though its life support

10 things my mother did not prepare me for:

1. The absence of her smile it will always carve me warmth unquantifiable
What do I do with the ice now?

2. How to stay afloat in drought
Yes, there's nothing there 
No cause to fight gravity sheer emptiness that I only can see
I hit rock bottom

3. How to hold a soul back
You will never know anything worse than that makes you powerless when it be love it departs 

Giving you no chance for a goodbye, you will know what it's like to lose a battle

4. The heart, the breathlessness when I hear the sound of her laugh I feel it to my grasp but how do I catch a cloud

5. How to not look forward to her calls 6AM 
Waking me up, just to make sure that I wake up

6. How not to cry when I miss her 

7. How to ignore the rain 
Because there is something about the rain that reminds me of my mother 

Every drop that hits the ground is like a voice saying you'll be alright

8. The depth of grief, 
Grief is the worst kind of pain you'll ever know
Fist you chase shadows, then you make it home
But when the light comes in any form he leaves you bare

This betrayal will happen often will reach out to hug yourself 

The heart is broken and now you know it's glass

9. How to forgive myself for not being magic enough to stand between her and the clutches of death 

Everyday you apologize Mum I am sorry 
Think of everything I could have done differently 

Reminisce on times I could have spent more with her 
I know important things now