I will never understand the woman
who gave birth to me.
I’ve been told she was once like me
Bright future
Bright mind
Bright eyes
23 years of living with her,
I never saw any of it
At some point,
when I was tucked away in her womb
She changed.
While she was expecting
the little boy
she thought would make my father stay,
She changed.
And that October day
when the Dr. handed her
A brown eyed little girl
with skin too light
that looked like the man she loved
who had walked away,
She changed.
Permanently
Somehow she inherited her own mothers
Wickedness
The child she brought into this life
did not accomplish her job
So she spent 23 years
tormenting her
and calling it love
My mother loved me -
If you consider love
Beatings with
Hangers
Extension cords
Belts
Cable cords
Metal canes
And fists
My mother often wrapped me in her arms
and in her mind wondered what it would be like
to wrap her hands around my throat
My mother would tear flesh
from young bones
and challenge me to dare cry
Then explain that I made her do this to me.
A little girl who just wanted to be pretty
punished for clear nail polish at 8
A little girl who didn’t understand money
but knew the money she found in her grandfather’s room
would buy her the friends she didn’t have at school
as long as there was candy
A little girl who watched Roots
and felt their pain because the welts on slaves backs
were the same welts on hers.
But my mother loved me
She sacrificed for me
while stealing what was mine.
Keeping my father further away
than the miles already in between us
with lies and hatred.
Replacing him with a man who would raise me
out of obligation -
And I would always be an afterthought in his mind.
He would not stop my mothers rage
at a little girl who was different
but couldn’t understand why.
My imagination being my only friend
It’s no wonder I still find solace in day dreams.
This woman who loved me
who poisoned my mind, body and soul,
then sent me off to a place where
whatever she didn’t abuse they did.
And somehow, I felt safer there
than I did in my own home.
Tucked into a system that had already failed me,
sent me home to a woman seething
with more homicidal rage than I was used to.
Something she wouldn’t explain until 6 years later,
when I could understand the severity
and she let me know her regret
that I’m still breathing
This woman who loved me,
but told me if there is an afterlife
she never hopes to see me
This woman who loved me,
who criticized every dream I had,
claimed my successes for her own,
and exposed my failures to the world.
This woman who loved me,
who in her last days disowned me
because of a private journal entry
written at my breaking point,
shown to her by the husband who put her in her grave.
I wrote words about her
I’ve heard her speak about her own mother,
and HE has made her lose everything!
Even what dignity she had left
But she said she LOVED ME!
All the boys I let into my life
Holding shards of her love in theirs hands
and she asks me why I let them treat me that way.
The first person I learned to love
Was the person who would hurt me the most.
I know nothing
of the kind generous warm woman
friends and family spoke of at her funeral.
I only know the woman who claimed to love me
but taught me love shouldn’t hurt
while causing me the greatest pain I will ever know.
Even though she is gone
I still see her in my reflection and
hear her in my voice
and find traces of her in my laughter.
So I can’t hate her because so much of her is me
but I WANT to
At 28 years old my mother changed,
Coming up on my 28th year I fear I will too
Because people say I’m so much like
the woman I’ve never known.
And they tell me it’s a miracle,
with all that I’ve been through
that I haven’t changed too
