Mama I’ve been lying to you for so long,
Oh mama I’ve been dead for a while,
I’ve been quiet for a lifetime.
I worry about dreams so often now,
My sweet Mama, you won’t even know
The beast that was once your little girl.
I’m not the officer you sent me to be,
I’m just a chaotic bird in a burning cage,
I’m a wilderness left to burn without purpose.
Oh dear Mama, will the world still love my
Art if they saw all the blood I gave in exchange?
I buy a beautiful planner every year,
I scribble events of no consequence,
I go to none; if I indeed go to some
They only see a woman uninterested.
Mama, I drink too much until 6 AM,
Mama, I listen to Queen until
Farrokh dies in my heart.
I find myself in brutal arms of
Men of Ruthlessness.
They care not for me,
I care not for them.
Yet they come back to me
And tell me of my beauty.
Are they blind, mama?
4AM of maddening drunkenness later,
I find myself lying on my back
On the dirty, wet patio floor,
Staring at a cloudless sky.
I try and imagine how deep
A cut I could make in my story,
But this Indian knife doesn’t do much.
Such a coward.
It can go nowhere as deep
As my phantom pains.
Oh mama I’ve been lying to you
And to everyone I ever loved.
Such a deep seated irony.
I’m a liar for your protection
A truth preacher for the sake of strangers.
Oh mama I’m going to sleep now,
Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow evening
And write you another letter.
Oh sweet mama,
If only I had your strength!