When I was little I found a letter she wrote to you but never sent.  She said she couldn’t understand why you hated her so much.
Years later in a text, I said to some nameless man, “There’s no way you love me.  This isn’t how you treat someone you love.  You hate me, and I don’t understand why.”
I poured into him the love I should’ve given myself, but how does one pour from an empty container?
Is that what she did?  Did my mom give you everything?  Almost gave her life to give you life and you tried to take hers all because you changed your mind?
And how did she do it?  How did she make us whole when one cannot pour from an empty container? I’ve come to learn it’s us who filled her.  We filled her completely in the dark spaces you could never reach.
I won’t spend my life searching for the love you never gave her.
Look what she did without it.
“Everything that happens once can never happen again. But everything that happens twice will surely happen a third time.”
She made magic.  Gold.  Life.  Three times over.