Echo

"Sometimes I wonder if I have more then just my mother's eyes."

Trust me

I know that I am cruel

I was born of my mother's womb

Her blood runs through my veins

And like the daughter of a mirror

I reflect her snarl back at myself

I have suffered

And I have endured

Begging for something to be mine

But these hands

They're covered in blood

They burn whatever they touch

I'm covered in thorns

To hold someone beautiful in my arms would be to bleed them

To cut them the way my mother's voice pierced the skin

Then killed the heart

I am jealous

Of those who can love

The ones without thorns for open palms

Without caved in

Hollowed out scars for chests

I've wanted to taste something beautiful on my lips for so long

But my words

They spill out ugly

And thick

And dark

Like blood

Reviews

[willweb]

You know, often those who seem to lead the cherished life are in no better circumstances than those who long to know love and happiness...they are just better actresses and actors. Not everything is as it seems. Many people love the beauty of a rose and a small prick on the finger is just part of the deal. Stop the bleeding and enjoy the fragrance. Nicely done expressions. I enjoyed this.

[Lillian Kirsch]

I’m glad you enjoyed this piece. Often I think I will stop the bleeding, and I do, for awhile, but it does return. But that will not stop me from learning to love. Thank you for your kind words

[William Michael Reeves]

This was a beautiful poem that drips thick heavy emotion pooling in my brain as the thorn of your meaning penetrates my heart. 'Like the mirror of a daughter' is an excellent line. The longing you express flows free in your verse.

Glad to be reading you!

Bill

[Lillian Kirsch]

Yeah, this poem definitely dripped with a lot of emotions and a lot of deep longing that's sat within me for a long time. Thank you for your kind words