Mother

Sometimes I get a glimpse of you and I see your inner strength, I see how you have suffered, your torture, your pain. I see an intelligence, you don't believe is there. A free spirit. I see you strive for a future. I see behind the mask. You win my support. You have my attention. I want to give it. I feel connection and bond but it is fuzzy. I am wary. I see edges. I feel fear as I look to the horizon. I am scared this will be over and this lucid moment will be lost in my anger and disgust as another you emerges. Like clockwork. The childish pushing of boundaries. A needle poking sharply into raw emotion! Is it spite? A need for a reaction? My coping mechanisms kick in. Shut down. I'm out of here! I won't let you dance on me, all broken inside. A slip of the tongue. A tangled memory brought back into being, for me, they are attached to others. The shard leaves your mouth and your eyes give you away. I'm here feeling the splinters. Your brain is oddly wired and you know no shame or responsibility. I long for what I was cheated of, fruitlessly. A bitter reality. I am alone. I hope I am not too affected. I hope it doesn't ruin my home. My soul. I hang on and, sometimes I see the real you.