a poem about an unloving mother

stop.

just stop right there.

your lies are fear-tainted poisonous darts

i will no longer stand still, an unmoving

target of unwarranted devotion giving

no more access to my tender flesh

you are not safe

you are not home

you are a monster …

dressed in a mother’s clothing

and i was never ever anything more

than your pretty little prisoner of

the war inside yourself

(what is your war about anyway?)

i no longer care

i no longer feel compelled to be

your pretty little bulls-eye

bleeding onto carpet i must scrub

hoping that maybe, just somehow maybe,

if i take enough hits for you

that somehow maybe, just maybe

i’ll finally wake and find a

mother instead of a monster.