just out of reach

My relationship with my mother has long been estranged,

Words like splinters and glances exchanged,

Lost in the silence of things left rather unsaid,

Wounds that we carried too often misread.

Years drifted by in an unspoken truce,

Bounded by blood and yet divided by use

Of memories blurred, love worn, and frayed. 

Two souls adrift, in the shadows we stayed.

But beneath all the distance a yearning remains. 

A wish to rebuild, to wash out the stains. 

To reach through the silence, to soften the scars,

And find the lost light in our separate stars.

So here I am as quiet as night,  

Hoping one day that wrongs can feel right.  

But deep down I know like a stone in my chest,  

That some wounds will linger and never addressed.  

For bridges once burned rarely rebuilt,  

And silence remains—the void never filled.  

The yearning fades slowly, replaced by cold,  

As dreams of repair grow weary and old.  

In the end, some bonds are left to decay,  

Unmoved by the hope that they’ll soften one day.