Flaw

The big hand is on the ten,
The little hand is on the six.
Telling my mom and 
feeling smart at age four.

My mother's smile
exposes her affection,
and I love my mother.

I was a happy kid, but
a flaw in my chemistry
grew like a cancer,
enveloping my whole self,
leaving me charred,
hard to look at
hard to accept
hard to express affection

hard to know what to do.

Mom has gone.
While remembering 
what I put her through,
I feel a huge, infected ball
Inside my gut.