One Whipped Mother

Fourteen

You take my breath away, and I reach out to touch
that shining new aura of yours
Brilliant, powerful, imperfect --
I need to straighten everything up
You know, like mothers always do
But you wave me away as if I were trying to steal that platinum prize
all women covet

Beware of soul-thieves

Fourteen
I am taken by the years
The first tiny drops of
Fourteen

You pout your lips, pearly pink
Like abalone shell, exasperating
Eyes shadowed in black
What I wished to be, me
in my thick glasses
What I dreamed of, me
in my clunky Earth Shoes
And over-size smocks
Hiding, always hiding
Behind books and frowns and teenage self-doubt

You were my fantasy

Fourteen
I am shaken by the years
The mist of
Fourteen

You roll your eyes, embarrassed
When you notice my appreciation
When I gaze too long and
Blink away memory
Pull from myself the very thing I
struggle to keep

I want to brush your hair

Fourteen
I am angry at the years
The flood of
Fourteen

You are impatient, bobbing your knee
Snapping your gum
But I refuse to acknowledge the time
I will keep you here as long as I can
As long as you will allow

Don’t leave me

Fourteen
I am proud of the years
Of treading
Fourteen

Happy birthday, my beautiful Veronica.

Love until the end of time,

Mom

posted by Ms. Lori @ 9:05 AM