Unbalanced

Mother love,

I will not visit.

You left my father.

I feel unsteady.

All my life,

my young girl life,

I wanted nothing

so much as

your freedom from

his poisonous claws.

I am 35.

This altered scene,

a family split –

 the final stroke

that felled

the tender illusion

that some things

don’t change.

I know now

I must eternally adapt.

I will always be

letting go.

I must adjust

to this reality.

The little girl

I used to be

who still loves

an imagined you

woke up again

to witness your

emancipation.

I feel her feelings,

her vulnerability,

the weight of her sadness

in my adult brain.

I won’t hold her.

Not yet.

Her whispers are soaked

in your tears and I

am not quite ready

to cry

for both of you.

HS 11.10.2016

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