mommy, what does happy feel like?
“it’s like when you smile and everything is nice.”
mommy, what does sad feel like?
“it’s like when your grandma died. it makes you frown, and sometimes you cry.”
mommy, what does being mad feel like?
“it’s like when you want to hit something really hard to stop the fire in your middle.”
mommy, what is being scared like?
“it’s when you don’t want something to happen, but instead of fire in your middle everything is ice.”
mommy, what does hope feel like?
“it’s when you really want something to happen, and you’re almost scared about it but you smile instead of frown.”
mommy, what does love feel like?
“you’ll understand when you’re older.”
–
mommy, what does happy feel like?
[it’s the glow in her eyes but not her face as she looks at you oddly, tired – bent but not broken but even her smile is strained now]
mommy, what does sad feel like?
[it’s the way she sobs when she doesn’t think you’re near enough to hear with no abandon, unlike the everything that abandoned her, and it’s the gaunt look to her face, the haunted eyes that seem never to escape the mysterious burdens they drag with them]
mommy, what does being mad feel like?
[it’s the screaming at the sky, the blood-chilling sounds wrenched from her, demanding at no one why they would do this to her, why her, anyone but her, and it’s the dented wall no one talks about]
mommy, what is being scared like?
[it’s the ‘i-love-you’s that stick because of the desperation buried beneath the simple words, and it’s the fact that she’s convinced she’ll never be able to convey the entirety of her meaning, but she’ll try her hardest, anyway, because what could invoke more fear than regret?]
mommy, what does hope feel like?
“mommy doesn’t know sweetie, go ask someone else.”
mommy, what does love feel like? (i’m older now, you know)
“shouldn’t you know the answer by now?”