In the Trail of the Wind
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Empty Air: Why weren't you there?
I never knew the color of her eyes.
She never looked me in the face.
I was like a cat to a dog lover,
she only tolerated me if I was out of the way..
In my dreams,
I would run into her arms,
but she always faded away,
and I was left holding only air.
Her hair was a soft shower of gold,
a waterfall of cascading silk.
Her skin was light and smooth,
not a blemish to mar its tone.
And I am dark and hollow-eyed.
My hair is coarse and thick,
and as black as the place in my heart
where my mother's love should have warmed me.
I can't remember her eyes.
I remember her face.
I remember her voice,
telling me "Go away."
I remember the hate in her voice.
I remember crying to her,
and just wanting a hug.
I remember her walking away.
And once again,
I was hugging empty air.
My mother wasn't a mother,
and I wasn't a daughter.
A parent's love is a mystery to me.
The comfort of a mother's arms is a foriegn thought.
The feeling of a father's pride is unknown.
Where there should have been a mother,
I grew up alone.
And I can hold on to her memory as tight as I dare,
but all I will ever be holding is empty air.