Mommy Dreams

Daddy,

Mommy doesn’t laugh anymore.

She doesn’t hold me in her arms

And tell me that she loves me anymore,

Her eyes don’t shine anymore.

Daddy, Mommy doesn’t smile anymore.

 

Now,

Mommy cries.

And when I ask her why,

There’s always 

Too many onions to be cut

Too much dust to be cleaned

Too many dishes to be cooked

Too much smoke in her eyes

Too many bruises to be washed,

And too little time.

Daddy,

Mommy cries.

 

And Daddy, 

Mommy screams.

Late into the night 

When I’m in my room,

Counting sheep,

Trying to fall asleep,

Mommy screams.

Daddy, 

She must be scared,

Because everyone is scared of monsters,

And the last time I checked under my bed,

The monster looked like you.

I wonder how fast the heart beats

When that monster crawls under the sheets.

Daddy,

Mommy knows,

Because late into the night, 

She screams.

 

Daddy,

Mommy waits.

She sits on the edge of her bed,

And waits for the clock to strike quarter past eight

And for your hand, to strike her cheek.

Daddy, Mommy doesn’t fight anymore.

Every morning,

When I count on my fingers

The number of bruises that weren’t there the night before

And notice every time she winces because a muscle’s too sore,

She looks at me with blank eyes.

Daddy, Mommy doesn’t hide anymore.

Instead,

She waits.

 

Daddy, 

There are times

When even though she’s alive,

I feel like Mommy doesn’t live anymore.

Like she doesn’t want to breathe anymore.

But  Daddy,

Mommy dreams.

Even though she has spent all her days

Trying to be a good mother and a better wife

While all she wanted to be was free,

She dreams.

And Daddy,

You should know that

Even though she’s made up of broken dreams and shattered hopes,

One day, she’ll just be.

Just be.

Daddy, 

Mommy wants to be free.

So, she dreams.