Someone’s Mother

I think of writing again
And it feels like a drag after
Chain smoking all evening

Tight and itchy in my throat
A question caught there like tangles
Do I even have a voice for it now?

My words are used mostly for
Lullabies or bedtime stories and the
occasional whispered cuss word to a lego

I used to be so tortured
Then I was a survivor
Now, I’m just someone’s mother