Dear Mother

I've noticed with time, the more religious you are the more defensive you are. What is it then you wish to say when you speak to me of the wise words from Luke 6:38?

When hurt or defensive with authority figures you begin to recite, but you never once live by the words you speak. You always say Be a leader not a follower but you yourself fallow the swift black waters of the devils sweet rivers. Never once had you fallowed your own words, always the hypercritic.

Can you then, blame us for our war hard faces and too old eyes? Can you then, blame us for our love of light and fear of dark? You who look into life's mirror, what is it that you see?

When I look upon the mirror of my life, it is not your smiling face I see. It is not the giggles and laughter that I see; it is not the hugs or the encouraging words. When I look into the mirror, it is not joy that I see; it is my own regret of standing beside you and hoping for the best. Of believing that the authorities were wrong and that something else was wrong.

Looking back with you in mind, it is not your smiles that I see reflecting back at me. Looking into the great mirror, I see your mask in place. The mirror shows me many things, things I never wished to see.

I saw the memory of my first recital and how you complemented me so. Then I heard the words you whispered, just low enough I could barely hear. Comparing again, the two of us. Placing one above the other, always egging on, always comparing. So calm you've always been, so cunning, so crafty. You say so much and so little at the same time. Comparing and watching, speaking words with two meanings.

So proud of brother you were his trophy, his worth, and his rhymes. So proud of him you were, you did not see the sadness in his eyes. You did not hear the pain in his voice. You did not hear the sorrow, the regret in the words he chose. His rhymes always are the words he does feel, how then could you not see? Something had to be. How can those words be, if something couldn't be?

How I wonder what you would think, had I been the son you've always loved. Would you then grace me with the proud filled voice? Would you then shower me with pride shining emerald gems that were your eyes? Would you then revile that dazzling smile that was never aimed my way?

How I wondered what my life would be like, had I been the son you always loved. But then I'd see, But then I'd hear, But then I'd remember-You do not care

For I am the child hidden in a shadow. For I am the child that should not have been. For I am the child who feared the most. I am the child that you cannot see, it is difficult to see the forest through the trees.

Therefore, it is difficult to see, the well-hidden cracks that crawl across our masks. The wounds so deep that others would weep. It is difficult to see the forest through the trees--it is difficult to see the dreams through the fog.

You do not care, not like you once did. But it was basic needs back then, the needs any could fulfill. I remember and I remember, the tears in my heart, the mask that always cracked with each smile I gave. Searching through the dark for a light that cannot be found, searching through the night for a ghost not there.

I've wondered from land to land, searching for the one I loved so, Only to see that the one I loved most was as cold and distant as the diamonds in the sky,

If you be the stars, then darkness is your friend. If you be a star, then heartbreak is your food and sorrow your drink. Not so different are you from the gleaming stars.

So cold and distant, like the stars so distant, so cold. How then could I be? The youngest of your three. My sister the endless flame, my brother the careless wind. I, myself, fit with none. A star for a mother, a tree for a father, a flame for a sister, a breeze for a brother. How is it then that I came to be?

Blending and hiding from all, even from eyes so like mine. A thousand masks I do wear, A thousand cracks my mask does bear. How is it then that only you cannot see? How is it then that when I speak I cannot voice the darkness my heart does bear?

I hide my tears, like you have so taught. I hide my thoughts, like you have so taught. I hide my heart, like you have so taught. I hide, I hide, and I hide until I can't find myself. I hide, I hide, and I hide until I can't see. What then could there be? This letter it was meant to be, do you see what you do to me?

A thousand words do sore in my heart, A thousand thoughts buzz in my mind, A thousand flames do burn my heart, and A thousand tears do cool my achy head. This letter it was meant to be, Can you see what you do to me?

A condition I have for you; A thought, a word, a prayer sent up on high. A reward for the struggle, a condition must be met. A year a letter, a five year a call, a decade a lunch, a double decade earns the right--the right to stand beside the third

So cold, so distant. A star cares not for the life beneath her steps. A star cares not for the hearts she does break. A star, A star, my mother is a star. Then how can I be her child of three? A letter this was meant to be, do you see what you do to me?

A hope for a distant star--then darkness awaits those who fallow. A destiny tied to a far and distant star--then surly the same fate be shared, the fate of cages and darkness and coldness. Is this what the far and distant star seeks? Desires? Hopes for? The fate of sorrow and endless regrets--is this what the far and distant star seeks? Desires? Hopes for?

A thought, a word, a prayer sent up on high. A reward for the struggle, a condition must be met. A year a letter, a five year a call, a decade a lunch, a double decade earns the right the right to stand beside the third once more.

A thought, a word, a prayer sent up on high...