Who am I now if you’ve changed,
and you’re better,
and every second sentence you say
isn’t just a way
to tell me that I am the face of all your regrets?

Now that we get along,
and my mother is gone,
I have a tentative friend
(and walls and countless methods of defence
and guilt at not perceiving a single threat)

Now that we get along,
what do I say to her about you
and the transformations you pushed her to?