By Marie-Elena LeBlanc Bellissimo
Editors: Amy Li and Alloe Mak

Dear Mom,
I think I miss you.
Are we still friends?

Dear Mom,
Can you tuck me into bed again, just this once?
I’ll crawl into a fetal position
and watch you walk away through the crack in the old door
Everything is a little broken
That’s how the light gets in

Dear Mom,
Do trees miss the forest after they have been cut?
Because I think I do
I miss my roots,
Now I just put on a face.
A tree with a face.
Isn’t that strange?
To be a woman is to perform
Like Christmas pines
On display in the living room, all dressed up
Then we throw them out
Will you throw me out when you are done with me?
What good am I if you don’t like me anymore, Mom?

Dear Mom,
I miss the forest
I miss my wild
I think you made me like this
You made me just like you
This is the art of balancing
who you are supposed to be
and who you are.