When I was little, you taught me how to comb my hair
Tying a ribbon in its blackbird mass
when i was older, starting to grow breasts
you yelled at me when I took off my bra
as if It was a crime for my body to be free
You cut my hair and stopped talking with me
I reached my teens, played sports, discovered boys
you searched my room, destroyed my faery dreams
I read a book you said was total trash
you burned it, called me lesbian
It was two years after that I was kissed
yes, by a boy, despite my mothers "fears"
when at 18 I lost my purity - she cried
and said i was unclean
who gave her right to judge me to be bad?
I know so many who have done far less
or yes perhaps far more and earned less scorn
but they did not have her to whom they must confess
If I did not confess she called me liar
made up her mind by what she thought she saw
and to this day I still suppress desire
suppress myself if she is in the STATE
she taught me ritually to hate
to hate myself, my image, and my mind
my dreams, my choices, my desires
she taught me that I was dirty. wrong.
her spit of scorn soon put out my fires
Yes, there is bitterness within
my voice grows hoarse from tears of useless rage
until i leave, until i fly this nest
I will forever be locked in her cage
and even when I fly, take wing
I will be burdened by the words she screams
I see her face jeer at me on the street
I hear her curses follow in my dreams
Isn't a mother made to care?
to nurture?, cherish? teach and love?
where did she earn her hell's degree
that chooses not embrace but shove?
Whatever else I bring with me
when in the end I break the tie
I know that I will never be
like her - until the day i die.
One lesson i learn every day, over and over, is that there are many forms of what some people see as "love" - what i face on a daily basis is not love, not in a nurturing sense, but a controlling, molding, screaming bid for dominance. If ever I do have children, i have sworn to myself, that i will not repeat the cycle. Her mother did this to her, she is doing this to me - i will not let the next generation taste the same bitter gall. Perhaps in time that will be true. Until then, i must learn to live with what i cannot as yet leave behind.
yOni now blogging at cliterallyspeaking.blogspot.com
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