Moms Like Deborah

Image

(source)

Who raised you?

Despite the seemingly picture perfect family you grew up in

You have no respect for anyone’s boundaries

You cross lines like you were an immigrant desperately trying to escape

You forge boundaries with hate

I can’t relate

Nor can I make you understand

You think that just because you’re my mother I’m less than I am

Your paternity gives you no right

To steal my things

To put your hands on me

To call me bitch

And expect me to be okay with it

What’s wrong is wrong and the same with right

You are what an antisocial is to morals

No cognitive awareness for what morays and folkways are in this society

Nothing I can say can make you see

Make you agree

Admit

That what you did was wrong

Who raised me?

Better yet, who didn’t?

I mean, in a way, your lack of rearing

Caused me to be reared in an unconventional way

But reared nonetheless

I guess…

Hot tears streaming down my face

Burn like acid into my skin

My blood boiling

Not fully accepting that you can’t comprehend

It’s common sense

I shout through your defense

But no matter how many times I huff and puff

I cannot blow down your sorry excuse for a shelter

That is denial

You throw “that’s why she cheated on you”

So many times in my face

Because you know…

That was my weakest point

I gave an inkling of trust in you

And you dashed it away

Like I knew you would

Doing right –something you never could

And when I show you that I care by saying I could be this way instead

You bring up my dad, another cover –unraveling threads

Soon you’ll be all unraveled

And then what will you have

To protect, to cover you

From the truth

And to my sisters, who I’m trying to raise:

I’m sorry you had to see that

Afterwards all I could do was flashback

I never wanted to be apart of the reason why you would see anything remotely similar to what I saw:

mom arguing endlessly and pointlessly with some man

An argument that eventually turned physical

Even though it didn’t go there

You should’ve never had to step in

I’m sorry I didn’t listen

I’m sorry I was apart of a model of a dysfunctional relationship

The proper way to handle things is what I should have demonstrated

Or maybe I should’ve just walked away

Because your mother has no idea of what it is to reciprocate

She had to learn I have boundaries, either way.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s