Hold Me Not !
You’ll get better.
It’s all part of growing up,”
they said.
I hoped so.
I believed them.
’Cause that was all I could do back then,
small, scared, and powerless.
They grew with me,
and stayed with me over the years,
still surfacing occasionally
in those moments of helplessness.
How long?
How long am I going to carry them?
Years passed,
and the pain slowly faded away.
The past was almost forgotten
until it was my turn to protect.
I guarded them
like a fierce warrior,
shielding them from harm.
I became their shell,
their safe space.
Slowly turning into a cage.
As they grew up,
they were protected,
but not free anymore.
They had grown wings,
but were forbidden to fly
by a mother who had flown far and wide,
into and out of danger.
She would give them her life,
but never let them out of her sight.
All the love
turned into a strangling noise.
She watched them suffer
silently.
As days passed,
they begged, they pleaded,
but she wouldn’t hear any of it.
Then one fine day,
one of her littles
slept, never to wake again.
She was gone.
Her sibling cried his heart out,
cradling her head on his lap.
And then he glanced at his mother
seething in fury,
with anger painted across his face.
The mother wept,
banging her head,
hating herself for everything she ever did,
everything she ever thought was right.
“Are you happy now?
Or are you waiting for me to face her plight too?”
came a voice.
The mother winced.
She unlocked the cage
and walked away,
without looking back.
Moments later,
she heard a flutter overhead.
He was gone.
Finally gone.
When realization struck,
she broke into loud sobs,
fell to the ground,
banging her fists into the earth.
She looked up at the sky and cried:
“All I wanted to do was keep them safe.
I had no one to do that for me.
They had me.
Then why? Why… why?”
Her cries were heartbreaking.
They weren’t the cries of a grown-up,
but of a little human
who was deeply wounded
and never really healed.
Will this end here,
or be carried forward
to yet another generation?
Only time can answer.
________________________________________
Author's Note
This piece stems from a space of reflection - on love, loss, fear, and the unseen threads that bind generations. It’s about the kind of love that begins with protection but quietly morphs into possession. About how unchecked trauma travels, shaping mothers, daughters, and sons in ways they may never fully understand.
And yes, I’m guilty of it too of loving too much, holding too tight, fearing too deep.
May this serve as a reminder to heal before we hold.🤍
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