Once upon a time, at seventeen, Faced with a sight that should have been serene. My mother, lying lifeless, quiet, cold, Her story, through her silence, finally told.

Five years had passed since I built my wall, To protect my heart from her endless fall. Toxic, manipulative, lost in her vice, Her love, a gamble, I could no longer dice.

Guilt and anger, interwoven, interlaced, In the mirror of death, I hardly recognized her face. A mother I loved, yet had to let go, In her coffin, she seemed a stranger, a shadow.

At her graveside, my heart, strangely still, As they lowered her body, against my will. Tears refused to fall, emotions constrained, My heart numbed, my sorrow contained.

Time passed, healing in disguise, Until a stranger's words caught me by surprise. "A loss so profound," they said with a sigh, Unleashing a storm I had tucked away, high.

A breakdown like none I had ever known, A depth of despair I had never been shown. Months of agony, a world devoid of light, Lost in a labyrinth, bereft of sight.

But the human spirit is a resilient thing, Even amidst the harshest winter, it yearns for spring. And so, I began my journey, step by painful step, From the edge of despair, a promise I kept.

I learned to voice my heart, to release my fears, To let my emotions flow, unashamed of my tears. The guilt and anger, once a consuming fire, Transformed into a beacon, a burning pyre.

I found solace in writing, healing in each line, In the melody of words, a rhythm divine. In the warmth of the oven, the kneading of dough, I discovered a sanctuary, a comforting glow.

The hum of the tattoo machine, the dance of the needle, A testament of resilience, of strength unbridled. Each stroke, a symbol of my journey, my strife, An indelible narrative etched into my life.

The pain of loss, the weight of regret, Transformed into art, my sorrows met. From the ashes of despair, I emerged anew, From the canvas of pain, my strength I drew.

This poem is a testament, a tribute, a token, To a heart once silent, now awoken. For even in the darkest night, stars do gleam, In the journey of healing, we find our dream.

~S.W

************

Dear Readers,

I am sharing with you a piece that is incredibly close to my heart, a poem titled "A Farewell Unwept". It's a personal journey through some of the most painful experiences of my life, and yet, it's also a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, the power of healing, and the transformative nature of expressing our feelings.

This poem touches upon a topic that many shy away from - the indescribable pain of losing a loved one to their own hand, the aftermath of guilt and regret, and the long, often lonely road to healing. It is an ode to my mother and the complex relationship we had.

One of the hardest lessons life taught me is how short and unpredictable it can be. My mother's passing was a brutal reminder that life does not always grant us the luxury of time or the opportunity for closure.

Hence, I urge you all, in light of this, to ensure your loved ones know they are loved. Sometimes, in the hustle and bustle of life, we forget to express our feelings, to communicate our love and appreciation for those around us. Please, take the time to do so, for life is fleeting and every moment is precious.

Sharing this deeply personal part of my life with you wasn't an easy decision. However, I hope that in doing so, it encourages open conversations about mental health, loss, and healing. I hope that it serves as a reminder that it's okay to feel, to hurt, and more importantly, to talk about it and seek help.

Lastly, remember, your pain is not your identity. It is a part of your story, yes, but it doesn't define you. You can and will rise from it, stronger and more resilient. Allow your pain to transform you, let it fuel your journey towards healing, self-love, and acceptance.

Thank you for your continued support and understanding. Your empathy means the world to me.

Yours,

Shann Writes