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Rated: E · Poetry · Opinion · #2350666

honest, raw, and full of the love I still carry for my daughter whose not loving her mom

There’s a storm inside my chest
every time I think of her name —
a daughter I love with everything,
a daughter who says she feels only pain.

I replay every moment,
every choice, every year,
wondering which crack in our story
grew into this canyon of fear.

She speaks in silence now,
in distance sharp as knives,
and I’m left holding memories
like bandages pressed to old lives.

I wish she could see the woman in me
beneath the mistakes and the mess,
the mother who never stopped trying,
even when I failed the test.

I ache for her laughter,
for the way she once ran to my side —
now she looks at me like a stranger
and I’m breaking quietly inside.

But love doesn’t vanish
even when she turns away;
it waits in the doorway of my soul,
hoping she’ll return someday.

And until that moment comes,
I carry her in every breath —
torn open by her absence,
held together by my love that’
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