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YOUR CART
Mom: A Pantoum
Hannah Farrar
My heart dies.
Something stifles my lungs.
My skin stings
And my judgment distorts.
My thoughts blur.
I miss my mom.
My vision warps.
I miss my mom.
On the floor, she asks me:
“Why are you crying?”
My dear friend,
“I miss my mom.”
Instantly the air is stiff,
Her mom will be forever missed.
Her mom isn't coming back.
My dear friend.
My skin stings,
I miss my mom.
My heart dies.
There is no reply.
"You can't heal in the same environment where you got sick"