Yours

And so, I am appalled by the accusations being made.
I am not there…
I no longer reply…
I no longer care…
I have walked away…
She is more important…
And… that…
I am no longer yours.

You tell me she is unlike you, that I have chosen a "prettier face".
She is different, "preferred", so much more beautiful than you had intended.
Because of her, I have turned my face from you, refusing to comfort you any longer.
You have yours, and I have mine; we are of no concern to one another.

How can you say such things when it was you who made me who I am? You found me, molded me, changed me for the better and to an extent I can never repay.
You have made me that which can be loved by others—you gave me a past to reminisce.
I was there for you.
I am still there for you.
When you close your eyes, I am there, watching over you as you sleep— my fingers brushing across your brow.

You granted to me the life I have now—your hand has led me to this future.
Not a mother— but so much more.
I have kept you company, my words easing your tensions—my embrace drying your tears.
And would you dare forget … ?

You have?

I don't believe so.

How can you say that I am no longer yours?

I am in your heart.
And you are always in mine.