I was taught,
To hold my head high,
And laugh when people tried to pull it down,
You put a sword in my hands,
A helmet on my head,
And sent me to slay the dragons knowing that I could,
But even when I came back with my hair all singed,
I came home to a hug,
Because with a teacher like you,
I understood I could be the princess,
And the hero,
I could manoeuvre an axe made of steel,
At the same time as manoeuvring six inch heels,
You sort of wish my art wasn’t always covered in blood,
But I’ll still produce it because you taught me weird is good,
And that it’s okay to be different,
Although you still rescued me,
From several fashion faux pas,
Because I liked to make people laugh,
But we both know the difference between ‘with’ and ‘at’,
You didn’t want me to get hurt,
Tried to stop the inevitable,
But when I did get hit, and I did,
We could pin-point each pin and pull it out,
With ease,
Because they don’t travel far through thick skin,
I got that from you,
I got everything from you,
You taught me to throw rocks at boys,
Because at the end of the day I’d throw rocks at all of them,
There’d just be some that would tolerate it more than others,
Maybe even like it,
After all, you threw rocks at Dad and he married you,
I’ve asked you countless times to get off my back,
Only to discover sometimes you were the only one who had it,
You’re my anchor,
You’re my rock,
The net that constantly catches the,
Whiny,
Moody,
Temperamental trapeze artist,
Who keeps jumping after eighteen years,
Knowing that you’ll stop her from falling on her ****,
When she misses the bar,
There’s so much more I could say,
About things that aren't poetic,
All the hard times and the ugly times and the sad times,
You stopped me from falling off the edge of the world,
By nodding your head,
And understanding,
You’re more than Superman,
Batman,
Wonder woman,
Anyone,
You’re my hero,
Forever and always,

Mum.