When the Giver Becomes the Storm

Today is her birthday.

But silence feels safer than words.

Each wish I send

Returns as a blade.

The prayers I offer for her peace

Come back as curses.

My quiet moments with the Divine

Are shattered by thunder she summons.

Offerings of love are refused,

Sacred food, flung away.

The hands I once protected

Now carve sorrow into my skin.

She casts shadows of blame

While I scramble to shield my truth.

My retreat is branded betrayal—

My silence, a crime.

Even my basic needs

Are held hostage

While I face battles

No one sees.

And yet—

She is the one who gave me life.

But in this time, this age,

Mothers can forget

Their role as shelter.

Some turn into storms

That undo the very life they once nurtured.

She is no longer my refuge,

But the tempest I must survive.