A Daughter Made of Ash

For two years
i have been carrying
a tremendous grief and 
powerlessness
it has slain me
over and over and over 
again

in truth
i can barely contain
or console
this gaping wound
a black hole
in the middle of 
our small family constellation
my mother’s depression
her daily texts
of wanting to die

my heart is raw
and tears have dried up
like a forgotten riverbed
there is only the 
cracked parched earth
that barely remembers 
the touch of life
or hope

i am torn to ribbons
flapping in the wind
love
resentment
anger
helplessness
grief for myself 
and our family

i push it aside
everyday
tell myself there is 
nothing i can do
but oh
maybe
i can call the doctor. again
send her a text hug. again
buy her something. again
drive down to stare 
into her empty eyes. again
hold her struggling thin body
in my arms. again
waves of anger and betrayal
crash against 
my deepest longing
for her to be well
and free from suffering
please

i move on with my days
a happy and sad blur
building my own life
feeding my own soul
allowing for 
anger and the undeniable
guilt of being an asian daughter
whose mother
never protected her
feeling hot and 
cold-blooded
at the same time
trying to find some warmth
for myself 
and for her
i feel entirely spent
incinerated
a daughter made of ash

this deep anguish
and terror
not knowing what’s ahead
i can’t fix this
i can only accept
and treat myself
kindly
it barely feels
enough