Price Of Liberty

Another part of my past.

"To err is human;
to forgive,
divine."

An Essay on Criticism
Alexander Pope
1711

From your loins
Did I emerge
Perfect
In all ways
But one.

A defect
Which would haunt me
Decades later.

As your venomous hate
Sprang from your fangs
Puncturing my body
And poisoning my soul.

Desperate reaction
To my moving away
From your tyrannical
And smothering control.

By becoming
My own person
Of the opposite gender.

Constantly harassing me
On a daily basis
With long distance phone calls
Or showing up
At my apartment.

As you made
Your repetitive pitches
For several months
Over my refusal
To cut my hair.

Because you viewed
My growing hair
As "unmanly".

Never mind
Your toxic words
Upon discovery me
En femme
During a surprise visit.

Which left me
In the blackest
Of depressions
And suicidal.

Although
Only two incidents
It shows a pattern
Of your psychological abuse.

And for this
I should forgive you
To let my anger go?

Never.

What you have done
I can never forgive you
In making my life
A living Hell.

Because
I chose to rebel
From you.

Grasping freedom
For my soul
Over submission
And spiritual death.

Let the "God(dess)"
Be the one
Who forgives you.

For I shan't.

Author's Note

Since November 2012, I have stopped all communication, with my mom, after several attempts by myself, to build a healthy relationship, between us. But, she refuses to be seen in public with me. Even though, each visit meant several days of severe anxiety attacks by me. For I can see, the fear and anger, in her eyes, which she denies.