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Is it just me or does every second I spend with you tend to make me cry out for my insanity? No. I’m sure you have something big to do with this. I mean look at me you’re the reason I can be so cold, the reason that I learned how to make a person cry out it agony and pain and never feel a thing about it. The tears that run down my face will never be real because of you and the torment that you have put me through over the years.

You’ve called me worthless, trash, stupid, idiot, brainless and so many more and then you expect me to come crawling back to you asking for forgiveness, my love unconditional? Somehow I doubt that will happen anymore. You’ve kicked my small frail body into a bathtub over and over again until I was bruised and bleeding and I nearly had a concussion. Well actually that was before you refused to take me to the hospital. Now that I think about it you are the source of my chronic headaches that I was prescribed and given codeine by the doctor, yeah the one you took away and kept all to yourself leaving me with the head splitting pain that the doctor said would give me another concussion.

But you know I was naive to be nice enough to forgive you then. But I was a lot smarter when you rammed me into the wall over and over again; I still have the dent you left in my skull. Or when you kept hitting me ‘cause you had to be right when you knew once again you were wrong. I remember that especially because soon after that we found out I was anemic, the bruises on my arms my ribs and my beck didn’t go away for months after that. In fact I one of them likes to reappear every once in a while. And I will never forgive you for all the times that you thought you were far more important than my health, you know the times I could barely breathe and you put me to work doing things that if you got your fat lazy a** up from in front of the television you could do.

But all that aside, I realized mother’s day is coming up and I couldn’t care less about what to get you. After all I’m the only one who even tried to give you a nice mother’s day or birthday for all those years. I mean damned the rest of them nearly killed you, too bad they didn’t completely. And still you treat me like crap and call me your problem child saying you wish I weren’t born, you wish I never existed. Well I thought about what I could do for you and your accursed womb this year. First I considered running away but a hypocrite like you could twist that for your own need pretending to be sad and to go looking for me, I bet your “friends” will think that’s oh so sweet. Then I thought to grant your wish and to kill myself leaving a note to shatter all the delusions of those around you casting you in a new light, but then I wouldn’t be able to see the look on your face and eventually people would start seeing you as the victim I was.

This year I have decided to do nothing to acknowledge the holiday. I’m sure that if your beautifully wondrous son or your perfectly accomplished daughter even realize, or care, about the day that they cold do a lot more to make you cry than I ever could. And at least then the tears and the pain will be real because it is being caused by someone you actually care about. So Happy Mother’s Day and do me a favor and GO TO HELL.

The First and Final

It was odd how it happened
They just came together that day
Her tutu left behind
His tap shoes tossed away

The stage was so dark
And the pain was so new
That when she opened her eyes
She didn’t know what to do

She was sitting in the center
Her Pointe shoes at her side
The audience was absent
And so was her pride

He looked on from the wings
Her face like a light
In her stained white leotard
With her bun such a plight

He’d come to see her dance
In a glorious show
She was an immaculate Odette
Like a swan in new snow

But something had happened
As he took up her hand
As she looked into his eyes
Her pain burning like a brand

He pulled her to her feet
She gave him back attitude
He pulled her into a kiss
A kiss so rough and crude

She felt like butterflies
As she flew high in the air
She never thought she’d come down
But when she did he was there

In his hand he held hers
And with a pirouette and a twist
She’d combre in his arm
And he’d give a chaste kiss

One last peke into an arabesque
And it seemed their dance was done
And though she knew not his name
Her heart he had so skillfully won

And every time she danced on that stage
She thought of that man
And she’d dance like she was with him
Until they’d dance once again
© 2007 Sabrina Daley