To My Dear Mother

This is an exercise in the pantoum form (it seems very repetitive, but the form is actually very difficult!). The form apparently tends to work best when used to address obsessive topics...

I love the way you

show how proud you are

of me and all that I am -

the way a mother should be.

 

You are so proud -

I can’t share myself with you,

the way a mother should

want to know her daughter.

 

I can’t share myself with you

because your words destroy me.

Do you want to know your daughter?

Sometimes I wonder…

 

Your words destroy me

and I hate myself.

Sometimes I wonder

why I do the things I do.

 

I hate myself

and everything about me.

Why do I do the things I do?

I feel all wrong.

 

Everything about me

must conform to what you want -

I feel so wronged -

I’m strangled by your love.

 

I conformed to what you wanted,

so we were the “3 Musketeers.”

You strangled us with your love

and there was no way to be free.

 

We were the “3 Musketeers,”

our sad little family…

There’s no way to be free -

your wants came first.

 

Our sad little family…

Do you miss the one

who came first?

Do you wish

 

the one you lost

had lived and I -

do you wish

I had not been born?

 

Have I really lived?

I hate

that I was born at all.

I only live in fear of you.

 

I hate

me and all that I am.

I only live in fear of you.

I love you.

Reviews

[m.s.early]

How beautifully Freudian. If you were male I would have referred to Oedipus, but since you aren't you illustrate rather stunningly some of mutually swaying affects our parent's love has on us.

[DaughterNature]

Thank you! I wasn't sure it was exactly Freudian (I thought Freud was all about sex) -- this was more an exploration of sarcasm and the painful relationship I have with my overly-critical mother, but within the frame of the very cyclical pantoum form.

[Angel-fish]

You were right, our poems do, in fact, go along the same lines of a story! You write beautifully.

[DaughterNature]

Thank you so much! I really appreciate that, coming from another writer.