mother, i miss spring already

mother, i miss spring already

TW: implications of death and blood

 

opal eyes glared at me,

it was the eyes of ‌a “florist” that pierced my sight,

but it was the smile that kissed back hello—

it chuckled gently, as it used to.

before she had—

no, she’d never.

she simply made a wondrous flower bloom.

my mother made the most ‌mesmerising bouquets:

coated in a lavish shimmer of crimson;

sparkling like dewdrops under the moon.

they erupted out back,

out of thin air,

out of a man i had never met,

out of a woman whose name was foreign to my tongue,

out of a child who simply didn’t understand.

i’d always sat beside her,

as the exploding petals fluttered past me,

like spring had come back for a second,

just to kiss goodbye.

petals fly past as ballerinas tumble and turn,

grazing past me and staining my face in a deep shade of lipstick.

now she sat behind glass,

all tied up in a wooden frame with no way of escaping,

no longer running free as her hair galloped behind her;

even spring is too far from her grasp.

but,

even though she—

nothing.

she was my mother and i—

nothing happened.

of course the police would believe me.

i feel an urge to cry…

for help or in mourning that i do not know.

but i feel the thumping of my heart,

the one that keeps trying to lunge out of my body;

into the frame and hug her.

to embrace her one last time as her spring brought forth an explosion of colour about me.

i wish she would sit by me and—

god!

just—

mother, 

please!

i miss your spring already…

 

 

Writer – Michael Song
Editor – Kenneth Gong
Artist – Grace Ye

–August 2026–