When a Lullaby Isn’t Enough

My mother wasn’t the easiest to love…

Mother — why did you not hold me close when I cried at night? I held out my tiny fingers to grasp you, to try and keep you near me, but you never reached out to me at all. Sometimes I wonder if you were just sitting in the other room, eyes widen open, as my nightmares swirled with a sleepless fugue of being.