Mother, I carry within me the weight of unburied pasts, memories that linger like shadows in the night. Some nights, your daughter feels as if she is tearing herself apart, the pain and sorrow threatening to consume her. But in the morning light, she finds the strength to piece herself back together, to heal the wounds that still ache.

I may be a mosaic of broken pieces, but I am also a masterpiece in the making. The scars I bear are a testament to the battles I have fought and the resilience that resides within me. I may not have buried my past properly, but I am learning to carry it with grace and courage.

In the depths of my struggles, I find solace in knowing that your love and guidance are always there, a beacon of hope in the darkest of nights. And as the sun rises, I am reminded that with each new day, I have the opportunity to mend, to grow, and to emerge stronger than before.

So, mother, as I navigate the complexities of my past, I find comfort in the knowledge that I am still your daughter, and that in your embrace, I can find the strength to heal and rise once more.

© Beatriz Esmer