“JUST ANOTHER MOTHER TO HER DAUGHTER” A Poem from the New Release “Forest of Caves II: Deeper Within the Flesh” Coming Soon
I’ve done a lot of reading about kids who grow up to have this edge about them. And most of it comes from emotional abuse from their parental guardians. One in particular is when a mother tells her child he or she wishes they were never born. That one alone seems to be the subject in this poem I wrote, titled “JUST ANOTHER MOTHER TO HER DAUGHTER”.
However, this particular piece is one I wrote based on adult females who have felt and heard these words, if worse than… if you can imagine anything worse than being told by your own mother that she wished you were never born into this world we now reside in.
Abuse is a big part of the way individuals become a sort of derangement and detached aura as the years progress and they become older in life. This piece may offend many, and many will feel very emotional while reading this piece I have worked on for a few days now. As this piece is very emotional on many levels I do not mean any harm to those who can really relate to this piece. Enjoy the read.
“You were a mistake
And I wish you were never born.
And I wish you were dead.” Mother said without any regret.
And that soul of mine,
You know… the one you gave birth to?
That soul suddenly became a twisted, distorted cage,
And this cage I am always stuck inside of.
In that constant thought of hatred towards your own mother,
Just another mother to her child…
Just another mother to her daughter…
And after decades of suns and moons, while you are still around;
Taunting me with your evil eye and disgusted stare.
I can, and will not forgive what you said.
As it marinates, I hear you and family members wanting me to be your friend.
Yet, they have no idea what was told and said.
And until this day I will not forgive,
The horrors that you put me through,
Every time you said those words.
Just wait and see when I am older,
As you call and text bomb me… I will ignore you completely,
And never reply. And later you text and ask why do I never reply,
And I wonder why…
And as I grew older that time kept coming to mind
Those text bombs and phone calls,
And those thoughts over and over in my mind.
Lost in its gripping horror
Coiled in its womb.
From a mother to her child,
Torture was not what I deserved.
To feel those words coming from your own mother’s voice
Enraged and angered,
You never knew about my first kiss.
And thank goodness I do not recall my first birthday.
Hearing your voice now makes me feel two inches tall,
So I kept far away always from your site.
Until now…
And now you lie there,
Lying there on your death bed and I really don’t know what to say… anymore.
Should I let you know how I feel?
Or should I stand here silent as even on your very own death bed?
You say nothing,
And look the other way… And even there on your death bed,
You die shamelessly in vain.
-End-
(c) The Distorted, Michael G. Stone 2012
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