I remembered she wouldn't wake up.
Her lips were meshed together in a
horrible shade of red.
They burried my mother in a white dress,
and she couldn't see.
Where are your glasses, mommy?
And still sat sixteen i bring them to my face
and peer through the distruted murky lenses,
to see what saw.
Maybe one day.....
And I remembered it hitting me
like it does every day
when I hear them all talk, and complain about their "horrible" mothers.
What's it like to have a mother
I'd give anything to know, or at least for them to know how lucky they are.
And I remembered she wouldn't sit up,
and I dreamed of a stuffing machine because someone whispered by my ear she was
cut in half and stuffed.
It made no sense, still at sixteen I wondered,
what happened to my mother?
I remembered her faintly, she doesn't even smile anymore in my dreams.
And i wondered if she would ever be proud of me, who i have becomed.
The things I have seen, the things I have done, and I remembered her singing
rhough I can't hear her voice.
The only happy christmas I hold on to ever year.
I used to think maybe one day she'll come back...
I remembered she wouldn't wake up
not even to say good-bye.