(This is another one of my early poems.)



Motherhood changes you
It’s no secret
Everyone says it
Even my own mother told me this
But she was talking about the 23-inch waist
and that was before she discovered pilates
My mother and I could never have a discussion
Foregt Mars and Venus
My mother is from Pluto
cold and distant
the dwarf planet that still packs
power and triggers terrifying destruction
without a single thought
I might’ve escaped a million times
only to be dragged back in by your gravitational pull
because this is your world
and its made of paper
without time or space
just the thin, straight line of your mouth
set in its horizon of disapproval
dissatisfaction your only expression
watching me tip toe across the cellophane floor
always trying to please
You and all those malevolent uncles
invited into our home
I was always caught in the glare of your headlights
and you never understood fear
you had God on your side
and you crammed me full of tiny embers
of guilt
before stitching me shut
How often I’ve wanted to annihilate myself
when those embers started to flame
Yes, you were always obsessed with martyrs
But all you ever sacrificed
was me



~ by Dark Landscapes on May 31, 2012.

6 Responses to “Sacrifice”

  1. haunting. No child should feel like that and the rawness shines through.

    • Thank you for reading. I agree that no child should feel like that. I’m trying to learn from my own past to be a better mother. I hope I’m succeeding in that!

  2. 😥

  3. Gulp… wow.

  4. Brilliant. The map of our bones. Crevices along those pulsing lines that tug at our hearts!

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