All in Her Title

Mama? Meh.

Mommy? Once.

Mother? Barely.

Mom? It’s the only one left.

Long ago, I loved this special day.

I loved to give you gifts, hugs, and love.

It was the agreement we had- you and me.

We never said it was, but deep down we both knew.

We had a dynamic that worked.

Actions that were reciprocated.

The standard arrangement between a mother and her child.

The problem with a deal is when one party no longer adheres.

There’s been rules set in place for a reason.

When one starts to stagnate, everything crumbles.

As is evident by you.

Bit by bit, you let go.

First it was hugs.

Then it was the love.

The gifts are still given, though only out of obligation.

So you can lie and pretend that you’re doing right by me.

By all of us.

As a child, it’s easier to say Mamma.

Through the tears of my adolescence, I just wanted my Mommy.

When I needed my mother, the one who loves and comforts, she was nowhere to be found.

There’s only one left.

That’s why I call you Mom.