Sorry Mama

Sorry mama, for breaking your trust, for dropping out of college, for causing you strain instead of joy, for going out without calling, for misusing the last cent you gave me, for chasing a dream, for being the only child in the family without a degree, for playing with your emotions, for neglecting my studies in order to write better, for questioning the gifts you got for me, for writing how I felt on paper instead of voicing it out and mama I’m sorry for being sorry all the time.

Walking in a dark valley with no footsteps insight, being the only individual in the family chasing a dream instead of a 9-5, the tribulations we’re facing aren’t similar to the demons of a 9-5. We tend to be lost in our own words, lost in the maze we’ve made ourselves; being knocked down we’re forced to look up at ourselves merely because we’re on the verge of jumping into difference. We’ve been silenced for decades, in sync with our little bubble we gave paper words and the world understood what we meant.

Emotions drip when we’re voicing ourselves, writing from the heart you might as well enter our space if you relate.