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5/15/2012 8:27:09 AM
Posted: 4 years ago
If anyone cares to do so, I wrote a poem a while back. I wanted to know what you guys thought. By the way, I know it's reminiscent of Sylvia Plath's "Daddy."
I had last night a dream of the woman you used to be--
a gleeful ghost who had come to visit me.
It was the woman I knew before my father left--
the great and smiling woman who made me feel safe
and drew the covers over me and kissed me good night.
I awakened then to your grumble, complaint, and scream,
and I realized it was all only a dream.
The woman you've become makes me want to die,
with your every harsh comment that passes me by,
and I would try if you didn't already have a knife in my heart.
Your words sting, mommy. Like an injection's touch. Like a bee's kiss.
They stick with their slippery spines on the sides of my brain
and dig into the flesh whenever they can.
I'm stupid. I'm fat. I'm irresponsible.
Your words suck away the little love that remains for myself.
So many cruel words were there that I no longer remember the reasons to hold on
to the love.
You know the words hurt. You sling them anyway.
There wasn't even a single one I failed to hear.
My sister is trying to kill me.
Last night was the second dream where she almost did so,
and my beloved mommy did in my dream what she did in the last what she does in reality: absolutely nothing.
Not a finger moved to save me, despite the many times I've taken your bullets.
I took every punch and kick meant for you.
I've stopped counting every single wound and bruise,
and when it comes time to choose,
on whether let the villain crumble or your hero lose,
you always picked to salvage the one who wanted to kill you.
Mommy, do you even love me?
You certainly say you do,
but then why do you turn me blue?
All I ever hear now is your every complaint
always common and never too quaint.
The reasons to hate me just seem to stack up on each other.
You called me a parasite once--
a sleazy tick sucking away your blood.
You can rest now, mommy.
Your wallet can sleep soundly tonight.
The flame of your fury will die away soon.
I'll be gone soon, mommy.
No longer will you live with my every mistake.
It will be as if I was never born at all,
and I'll go down the road an afterbirth.