My mother tells me that we will Never be friends. Today I believe it. Love poisons our blood And familiarity kills conversation. I look at her emotionlessly So to block her influence. She is an expert at exploiting The slightest ****** waver, Or any emotional advantage she Could have over you. She will make you wrong Through verbal martyrdom.
I won't let her speak to me Like she does the weak who Are too polite or too submissive To fight her. Her style of English is cutting, Self-righteous, honest, rude, unscientific, emotional, aggressive and often violent. Never elegant. She thinks the world is a battleground. She is often incompetent and on top of that headstrong - to compensate for her ignorance. She is sometimes funny, and sometimes kind. She tells me we will never be friends. Today I believe it. I will not confide. I will not smile. I will not joke, I will not listen. I will help but I won't speak. I will keep the talk small. We will never be friends.