I have a mother who spits venom on wounds
sliced open by her sharp tongue and -
She expects them to heal.
A mother who,
after her stormy rage,
slaps me with affection
then wipes her hands on her apron
as if to rid herself of the remnants
of the broken children
that her home houses.
she mothers shells -
Lifeless vessels
Any residue of life
died at her negligent hands.
I have a mother.
When school serves a healthy portion of anxiety sprinkled with self-doubt, before finally going on to painstakingly **** the life out of you with a straw.