#motherwound
What a plight; The mother wound!
Passed from generations, down—
Adult bonds are doomed to drown.
On this grief I must expound–
Hidden currents pull them under;
No matter how the daughters swim.
Clinging blindly to the brim,
Maternal love becomes a blunder.
Though the basic needs are met,
And crystal clear, the love is there—
It waits to trap the coming heir,
To inherit the lifelong debt.
Trauma ripples, she knows no love,
Just the price of strict compliance
Trapped in absolute reliance,
Driven forward with a shove.
Treading waters, dark and vast,
Flailing like a drowning fawn.
Used and broken as a pawn,
Where no empathy has been cast.
Finding love is lost at sea,
Watching every lifeline drown.
Nothing left besides a frown,
And an anchor, to break free—
Monitoring resilience from afar,
The green eyed monster does appear.
Her words are masked to hide the jeer,
Ensuring there's a lasting scar.
Emotionally waterlogged,
Forced into absolute restraint.
Without a voice to make complaint,
The Outward channels remain clogged.
Fighting the anchor to stay afloat;
The anchor breaks the heavy chain,
Casting away the source of bane,
To watch the drift of mother's boat.
Lifed up by those who rescue
Floating on a raft of restoration;
A new life enters creation
Relearning peace beside the fescue
May 21
May 21, 2026 at 8:23 PM UTC
I hate her.
I hate the way I am her cigarette and she the smoker,
consuming me slowly,
drawing me into her lungs
until my once glowing light thins to ash.
Every inhale makes me smaller and smaller,
letting pieces of me drift away into the air.
She crushes what remains of me with her heel.
I hate how I was once grown and nourished in her womb
and that all I now ask while staring into her unfeeling eyes is to be loved.
To be considered and to be held.
To be her daughter again.
But most of all, I hate how I don’t even truly hate her.
I wish I could forgive her for how I know believe that love is this:
constant hurt and pleading for someone to choose me.
Looking over the dimly lit street,
I see the faint outline of a mother and daughter,
hands enlaced,
and the sound of calm laughter
gradually becoming louder
and more mocking.
Envy sharply stings my ribcage
but sorrow lingers deep beneath,
like a painful bruise.
Finishing her cigarette and flicking me to the concrete,
sparks crackling on impact,
my mother twists her heel deeper and deeper until the ember surrenders.
One last hard grind of her shoe and my remaining light is smeared into ash,
the Rizla splitting open under her shoe.
My insides are scattered in grey dust.
May 10
May 10, 2026 at 8:25 AM UTC
ten years,
too late.
ten years—
and there's
no debate:
i will do
everything
to not be
like you.
i'm no saint,
but i know
when enough
is enough
and to draw
a line,
before it's
too late.
people come
and people go;
and i've come
to terms with
forgiving
and letting
go.
but in the midst of
it all, i hope
to be better
than to
risk it all.
because impressions
are forever,
and
i've learned
to forgive you
and move past it
rather than fall.
Apr 24, 2025
Apr 24, 2025 at 7:01 AM UTC
A mother’s hurtful words
Remembered better than any prayer
Learn quickly
For your fate is in her hands
What a way to find
Your little soul is ******
Jan 5, 2025
Jan 5, 2025 at 2:51 PM UTC
“Mama tried,” Mama lied.
Mama stole your car and sold it for a price
Married five times, Mama never could decide.
Always called me ugly, but I have Mama’s eyes.
Betrayed by fate, Mama hates that she’s alive.
Stay up late at night just to hear Mama cry.
It’s hard to feel pity when Mama casts you to the side.
There was never any love in the house where Mama resides.
But sure, Mama tried. Mama Tried.
Dec 20, 2024
Dec 20, 2024 at 1:27 PM UTC
𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 did you go?
Please can you tell me,
𝕨𝕙𝕪 are you
now
so estranged?
𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 happened?
Please can you tell me,
𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 exactly
did
everything change?
𝕎𝕙𝕠 are you now?
Please someone tell me,
𝕙𝕠𝕨 my mother
can
reclaim her name.
Aug 7, 2024
Aug 7, 2024 at 8:59 PM UTC