Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2018
momma always said that life on the farm wasn't always stingy she said the birds were chirping Roman numerals and the bees buzzed the alphabet sometimes

daddy always said momma's knees were full of salt because grandad made her kneel
momma said childhood was rough once grandad knocked the hummingbirds out with morphine and daddy had to peel their feathers off

sometimes momma would have a seizure and start sputting out random stories that she would remember and then we would go have to quiet her down and bring her to bed
the one story she never tells is the story about me - how I broke her vase
that barnacle was so delicate it cracked when I put too much salt in it

momma heard the wrong bedtime story once and ripped her seed-filled bible in half
she said god gave her a vision and finally tore the dream catcher I have above my bed to see the trains I stuck in my head
she never knew I could be the little girl dreamin of covering her next lover in salt
and the little girl screaming in the crazy box when she had to put miss instead of sir

now momma always said that I would be her little girl but momma never said she would always treat me the same
momma threw a knife at me and said girls belong in the kitchen
momma striped my room clean and said decorations weren't manly
momma yanked my clothes off and pointed to my chest "these aren't supposed to be here"
now daddy always stuck up for me but this point I wasn't daddy's little girl - I was momma's little reject

now momma lost her mind when she found out uncle shared the same name as me
momma threw the cat tails at me and threw me out
momma ripped my life apart and said I was at fault
momma was weeping with the pigs and shot the dogs heart out
momma scratched herself up and declawed the horses
momma went headless with the chickens and skinned herself with salt

momma calmed down when we tied bricks to her feet and dumped her in the river for a bit
now she sits in her rocking chair on the porch, picking out dead flies stuck in honey
every now and then she gets bit and feels a sense of reality
she doesn't talk much anymore so I just stuck the tongue back in my hat

thought a country girl would've been good enough for the folks back home
spent the nights carving in the trees together
sticking wheat in her teeth
and she shoved grass down my throat just to keep me quiet
momma saw me filling my lovers mouth with a tongue and yanked me by my hair
dragged me all the way down the dirt road
momma didn't flinch and quickly had my mouth washed out with salt
Written by
emily  17/F
Please log in to view and add comments on poems