If I Should Die Before I Wake

For my mum.

"I wish I could sit here and give you words to describe what my mother means to me. There aren't enough words in the dictionary. I don't know how she did it." - Lebron James

Stroke my hair, rub my back -
murmur words of comfort.
Sit with me ‘til I breathe deep -
See off the demons between here and sleep

My video broke, you bought me a new one.
Teddy’s insides were rotten, so you filled him again.
My pink duvet cover was bloody and stiff -
asking the fatal question “what if?”

My fridge fills like magic each time you are here -
Pitta bread, houmous, milk, bread and cheese.
What pixies visited from Tesco last night?
The kitchen stands proud now, ready to fight.

A kettle, a fleece, the bin - you replaced
the blood-splattered razor filled one I’d defaced.
You were outwardly coping, seemingly calm -
I drank in your love, your sweet smelling balm.

Your life put on hold, you stayed in my flat -
Held back my hair when the sickness began.
You did not know when you would be free -
I was selfish: your image was all I could see.

Those days are gone now,
They won’t come back,
but I will always regret -
I will never forget.

© Morney Wilson.