There is only as much space, only as much time,
Only as much desire, only as many words,
Only as many pages, only as much ink
To accept all of us at light-speed
Hurrying into the Promised Land
Of oblivion that is waiting for us sooner or later.

We all knew she needed help.
But none of us knew how.
And none of us could swallow our pride and just ask her what she needed.
I don’t know why.
Maybe we were too ashamed we didn’t know how to approach our own mother.

So we let the years slip unhappily past us and hoped we would never inherit the misery embedded in her soul.

But I did.

And I didn’t know how to say it aloud.
And I still don’t.

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