mommy's little girl

the relationship between my mother and me is complex. ups and downs, more downs than ups... love - hate. i use hate because sometimes i do. love because sometimes i love her. most times i do. and sometimes i really wish i was adopted. mind you, when i was younger, my mom was my best friend. i told this woman absolutely everything. and when i grew up, i just don't trust her the same. at least trust her to understand, she judges. harshly. so i wrote a poem about it.

to my mom:

I  wonder if I was worth the nine month wait

Cause my mother looks at me

Like she wished she stopped at three

But given her new found love of my father

She decided to rent out

Space in her womb for his seed

And my birth seemed more like an eviction

They say you can’t remember your birth

That the process of leaving

Doesn’t stay embedded in brain waves

But perhaps we just repress its memory

She made me for him

Not for herself

And in that hospital

I swore I confused doctor with daddy

Cause daddy wasn’t there

So my soul chooses to forget

Where I came from

The journey will never surpass the destination

If it lies outside the realm of recollection

My attachment to her left with my umbilical cord

Umbilical cords replaced by belts and extension cords

So the connection was temporary

But the scar tissues lies above bones

Hence they are useless for drying eyes

Blood never spilled from my skin

I kept it in like secrets

Youd hit until  the remnats of a family lay spilt beneath your feet

Find shelter in the cracks of our foundation

and you kept going

with even my shadow crying for me

you called it discipline

when I got out of line

so the lines bruised on my back were reminders

fuck post its

skin is the original paper

She told me I’m the spitting image of my father

That I must have lived in the womb that men forget they have

She claims none of my chromosomes

But wonders why daddy’s heartbeat is my lullaby

It seems that her blood flow

Just tried to drown me in her loneliness

And my placenta was poisonous

I might as well have been birthed in a grave yard

And my birthday was more like the day of resurrection

I don’t think I was meant to be

More like a formality

My mother’s arms are weary

It was my father that needed something to hold onto

And I needed something unconditional to latch onto

My mother never cried for me so

Her water broke instead

So the closest I got to feeling her tears

Escaped from her legs

Before I could see them fall

She even took that away from me

So now when she sobs at my feet

I just think she’s given birth to her guilt

A feud like this goes back like generations

That bicker without understanding it’s initial trigger

We fight like it’s our birthright

We fight like immune systems that gave on its body

We’re our own virus

That feed off our hosts of insecurities

She says she doesn’t know how to be a mother to me

That her proven techniques are just wasted on me

And I don’t know how to be her daughter

So we settle and become mirrors for each other

And screaming at your reflection

Does nothing to help the situation

Sometimes when we fight

Im reduced to the fetal position

Find myself nestles in the shrillness of harsh tones

And mangled words

And I was I was still born sometimes

Rebirthed into stillness

And it wouldn’t be an abortion

Cause had I known,

Had I been given insight instead of limbs

I could have spared you this pain

But still I was born

To you

You should never fight with your creator

They say our arms are too short to box with god

So I deemed my mother a worthy opponent

And though I mimick her image

Cause God’s in hiding

I don’t know when it was when she fell from grace

It could have been when her halo got tangled

Within my father’s bedsheets

Or when she laid in hospital garbs

Among white walls not resembling heaven

And when she gave birth to this angel

Perhaps I took her halo with me

A divorced woman is said to have no place in God’s kingdom

But you took the wedding ring shackles from your fingers

And your still not free

So maybe heaven isn’t the underground railroad

And there’s no candles declaring it your safe haven

So I’m sorry for proclaiming you scorned

When you were just hurt

And not appreciating the fresh water that came from salty tears

and though I appreciate your history

you made a mockery of our ancestors

cause when you called

I could never respond

Eyes hung low in submission

I endured

You are too beautiful to be master

Masters shouldn’t give birth to slaves

So forgive me when I feel inclined to runaway

You took your shackles off and replaced them with my halo

And called it tradition

So I spent years cultivating the artistry behind repressed anger

So for every time I was told to speak when spoken to

I’m here in front of you

Pretending I’m the speakers to your heart

So when you yell, I’ll yell louder

Amplify the sound

So you can hear yourself

And then maybe you’ll listen to me

maybe we can be best friends again,

anacaona