The Man my Mother Feared

The Hands That Held Me His hands are strong, calloused, steady, Yet something in their weight unsettles me I tell myself it is love The kind that holds, not harms The kind that lingers like a shadow But never chokes the light. My Mother’s Eyes She smiles, but her lips are tight. A fliclker of something unnamed Passes through her like a ghost. She watches him, watches us— Her fingers trembling at the edge of silence. The Whispered Name It was a name she never spoke, wound she stitched beneath her ribs. A night swallowed by the earth, Buried so deep the roots forgot. Until he said it—my name— Like something he had once owned. The Cold Awakening His hands are strong, calloused, steady, Yet now they feel like chains. I trace his scars, And they lead me to my mother’s past. The weight of his touch, No longer love— But fate’s cruel echo. The Unraveling Did the stars know? Did the wind whisper? Did my mother see me walk into the arms Of the man who once broke her? She does not cry, But her silence shatters me The Ending That Was Written I do not scream I do not run I only stand, As the earth spins on, Mocking the daughter Who unknowingly loved Her mother’s nightmare. A name written in shadows, A fate sealed