Mother

I don’t try to understand you

Your silences, your anger, your absence

I no longer find comfort in your hospitality

But, like a child, I crave your approval

Even though I’ve never had it and probably never will

I miss you, but looking back I can’t remember HAVING you

You’ve always been just out of reach

Close enough to create some fond memories, but not build a foundation

I was never on your level, and as I got older I didn’t want to be

I recoiled, I rebelled

A house isn’t built by one man, thus I was left homeless

I don’t want to believe we were always like this, but nothing proves otherwise

You were broken, and now I am too

Maybe I really am just like you

But if I was never enough . . .

Never smart enough

Never thin enough

Never good enough

What does that say about you?

It’s not a secret, you’ve made me well aware

My every tiny error reflects so poorly on you

I made you look bad, but you made me

What I did wasn’t a cry for help, after seventeen years I knew

You couldn’t answer

You had a bad connection

I acted out of desperation

I sought comfort in my childhood home

Praying I’d find things I never had

Security, money, answers, hope . . .

I was only there a little over an hour

But I did as much damage as you did in seventeen years

You robbed me of a childhood, a storybook family, a mother

And I robbed you of your possessions

In the end though, we are both still broken

You can’t fix me and I can’t fix you

But maybe t here’s still hope, despite all we’ve been through

Reconciliation is not a word either of us can define

But maybe in due time, we’ll be just fine