Mother’s Day
Sometimes loving someone is more trouble than it’s worth.
The last thing that she sent to me before she died:
“You’re full of shit.”
I told the truth, she couldn’t do the same.
All she ever did for me was
Lower my expectations
Which started when
She donated my name.
She gave me up without a pause at noon’s first light.
Born wandering,
I would be doomed to scavenge and survive.
But how could she have ever known
The suffering I’d face, or
My doom, my fate:
To stay, but not to thrive.
Vengeance, like regret, gets us nowhere in the end.
So please forgive
All your loved ones who turn you into prey.
If you don’t, you’ll be just like them,
A shell of hatred and fear.
Then you won’t have
Your mom on Mother’s Day.
