Mother May I

I don’t want to hold grudges — the kind that just keep expanding inside you like an angry red balloon.  We’re running out of time, I fear.  That is why I picked up the phone and dialed, instead of running once again to that place with no thoughts, just people everywhere controlled like puppets by the strong beat and really loud music.   

You always let the phone ring five times before picking up.  I know your habits better than anyone, because I pay attention to details.  You answer just before the sixth ring, and as soon as I speak I hear your fingernails — which I know are pink and perfect — begin to tap impatiently. 

I don’t want to fight, I insist, and you reply that you’re not in the mood to talk about “unpleasant” things. That is how I know nothing will be resolved, and the angry ball grows inside of me, because I know that it ultimately doesn’t matter. You’ll never change: you’ll always remember the thorns and not the flowers; the storm and not the rainbow; and, the labor but not the birth.


~ by Dark Landscapes on April 20, 2014.

One Response to “Mother May I”

  1. I can identify on a variety of levels. It makes it tough when the communication isn’t there. If it is it is distant. A mother daughter relationship is a vital ingredient. When its not there lots of areas become tainted as one goes through life. Look inward and a journey will unfold.

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