Growing up dead

A Poem by NightAndDay

I lost my mum to cancer a few years ago and began keeping a journal type thing, this was one of the entires and I just feel it should be shared somewhere.

Growing up I never knew much about my mother,
So I made up lies instead,
Weaving different stories like delicate spiders webs.

I never understood her illness,
So I cried all night in bed,
Each year a river; carving its path down my weeping head.

I never forgave her for going,
So I began the bloodshed,
Ripping into anyone who dared to get too far ahead.

And I will never know where he ashes lie,
So I made myself embed,
Stealing memories of gold; wearing them like armour into my war-head.