"Dear pages... I bleed into you tonight.
Not with ink, but memories."
---
She writes alone when the house is asleep
Silent cries buried so deep
Smiles by day, but at night she weeps
Praying her child dreams without grief
No husband to hold, no shoulder to lean
Just broken dishes and coffee-stained dreams
She skipped meals to feed her son
Said,"Baby, I'm full" — but she had none
---
These are the pages of her heart, torn and real
Wounds that time forgot to heal
Between the lines, she hides the pain
A mother’s love engraved in rain
---
But oh — there’s light in her laugh
When her daughter draws hearts on her photograph
First steps, first words, she wrote them all
Moments so small, but they stood tall
Burned rice but danced in the kitchen
Messy hair, but hearts still glisten
She found heaven in tiny things
Like bedtime stories and butterfly wings
---
These are the pages of her heart, warm and true
Moments of gold in shades of blue
Between the tears, there’s quiet grace
Love that time cannot erase
---
But don’t think she’s all gentle breeze
She held storms behind her knees
Screamed in pillows, clenched her jaw
Swallowed rage ‘cause “moms must stay raw”
“You only call me when you’re in pain
Where were you when I broke in the rain?”
Her journal turned to fire, her pen to knife
Each word a war, each breath her life
---
"I gave you everything...
My youth, my light, my sleep, my fight...
But when I scream, you call it drama."
---
So she closes the book, with trembling hands
Kisses the cover, like it understands
This ain’t a fairy tale wrapped in art —
These are the pages… of a mother’s heart.
